


Gold

by TheBadIdeaBears



Category: Ouran High School Host Club - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Awkward Conversations, BDSM, Blow Jobs, Cheating, Coercion, Cunnilingus, Desk Sex, Dom/sub, Drunk Sex, Drunkenness, Dubious Consent, F/M, Hate Sex, M/M, Marriage, Marriage Proposal, Miscarriage, Rape, Safeword Fail, Safeword Use, Safewords, Sexual Coercion, Under-Desk Blow Jobs, Unsafe Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Wedding Planning, Weddings, evil Kyouya, unsafe bdsm practices
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-01
Updated: 2017-06-17
Packaged: 2018-11-07 20:58:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 17
Words: 42,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11067009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBadIdeaBears/pseuds/TheBadIdeaBears
Summary: When Kyouya and Kaoru become an item, Hikaru seems disproportionately upset. What is he hiding?





	1. Prologue

He inhales sharply, pulling taut against the ropes that criss-cross over his torso as he feels the stroke of the riding crop on his spine. With his sight taken by the blindfold he's reduced to groping in the air around him with his ears, trying to gauge the position and actions of the man standing over him.

“You look very lovely on your knees like this.”

The words are quiet, measured, encouraging him to listen closely to catch them all. He can't respond around the bit gag but shivers, still feeling the light but persistent stroke of the crop up and down his spine. Coupled with the gentle vibration from the plug inside him, he's aching for something _more_... But with his hands tied, there's very little he can do except let out a little whine.

“Hmm?” He can practically hear the smirk. “What's wrong, Kaoru?”

He bites on the gag and his thighs tense involuntarily at the sound of his name on Kyouya's lips. He exhales slowly when the riding crop moves up his spine and the leather caresses the back of his neck, goosebumps forming on his back, every sensation adding to the arousal coiled tightly in his lower belly.

“I think,” says Kyouya. “It's time to start counting...”

Kaoru feels a hand on his shoulder push him slowly forwards until his back forms a downward slope towards the floor and his backside points up into the air. He hears the swish of the crop through the air before it lands on his skin with a crack.

“One!” he growls around the gag, the tingling pain from the blow making his heart race.

It's going to be a long, sweaty night.

 


	2. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone, Pandora here. Believe me when I say it all goes downhill from here. That being said, I hope you enjoy.

Hikaru's on her before she even shuts the New York hotel suite door, spinning her around to stopper her lips with his own. She steps back and lets the door click shut as he pushes her against it, kissing her deeply and hastily. His hands move from her shoulders down to grip at her waist and he groans into her mouth.

“ _Haruhi_...”

She sighs, her heart thrumming at the need she can hear in his voice.

“Hikaru we have to get changed and go; we're meeting Kaoru for dinner soon,” she says while he kisses and nips at her neck.

“We have ten minutes,” he growls against her throat, one hand reaching the back of her dress to tug on the zip. “All I could think during the drive was how much I wanted to get you out of this.”

Despite herself, his words (along with the feeling of his breath on her skin) send a shiver through her. There's a warmth pooling between her legs and she finds she doesn't want to ignore it.

“Well if we're getting undressed anyway...” she says and feels his answering grin on her neck. He sucks on her earlobe and she bites her lip on a moan, pulling on his tie. “We'll have to be quick though...”

“Haruhi I've been imagining doing this all afternoon,” says Hikaru, unzipping her dress and pulling it off her shoulders. “I couldn't go slow if I wanted to.”

She laughs and pulls him in for another kiss as her dress falls down to pool around her feet and she tosses his tie away. She unbuttons his shirt and runs her hands over his chest and stomach, dipping them into the waistband of his trousers and eliciting a moan from him. His deft fingers undo her bra and pull it off. It joins the clothes already on the floor, along with his shirt, and then he bends down to run his tongue over one nipple and draw it into his mouth. A whimper escapes Haruhi as Hikaru pinches her other nipple and she arches her back against the door. Hikaru moves lower, running his nails lightly down her sides and tugging her damp underwear off. He comes to kneel in front of her, running soft kisses down her belly while one hand goes to the back of one of her knees, pulling her leg so that her thigh rests on his shoulder.

The first lick to her cunt makes her writhe and moan, and if Hikaru wasn't holding her hips so firmly she would topple. He gives long licks to the swollen lips, dipping his tongue into her and then coming up to circle her clit. Haruhi shakes and pants, tangling the fingers of one hand in his hair while her other hand forms a fist against the wood of the door. He stops to suck on her flesh, soft and wet, her head tips back and she moans, louder now. He pushes two fingers into her, pumping them in and out and feeling her clenching around them already.

“Oh my god,” she groans, the words keening in her throat, feeling the tension in her curling tightly. “ _Hikaru_...”

The thigh on Hikaru's shoulder twitches and he pushes his fingers in deeper, moving them and his tongue to make sure she rides out her orgasm. When she stops clenching he returns her to standing and gets up, pulling her to him in a kiss she tastes herself in.

Hikaru hears a crinkle of plastic and realises she's reaching into the clutch she abandoned on the side table by the door to get a condom. He grins and pulls her with him towards the bed, undoing his belt as he goes. He feels the back of his legs hit the bed and sits down, wiggling out of his trousers and underwear – just as well: things were starting to get uncomfortably tight.

Haruhi pushes him back and climbs on top of him, too impatient to open the packet with anything other than her teeth. She rolls the latex on him and then aligns his cock between her thighs before sitting down and sheathing him completely. He gasps appreciatively at the warm, tight feeling enveloping him and Haruhi starts to move, bouncing up and down and quickly settling into a steady rhythm. Hikaru's hands run up and down her thighs, settling on her hips, while Haruhi's roam his chest, her nails leaving little white trails in their wake. The room is filled with the repeated smack of flesh on flesh and pants from both of them.

“God... you look... beautiful... bouncing on me... like that,” he says, sitting up and grabbing her around her waist to kiss her and thrusting with his own hips to earn a shaky moan into his mouth. She arches against him, still rocking back and forth, her breasts brushing his chest as the pitch of her moans increases.

“Hikaru...” she whimpers, and the wobble in her voice combined with the feeling of her beginning to flutter around his cock in orgasm gives him the final push over the edge, calling out her name as he comes too.

Their movements start to slow, eventually to a stop, leaving them sweaty and naked, wrapped around each other. He holds the end of the condom and she gets up off him, going into the en-suite to clean herself up. He tidies himself, and is trying to choose between two different shirts when she comes back out.

“We're late,” she says, coming to stand beside him with a not-quite-reproachful expression, the illusion only ruined by the afterglow playing about her lips and sparkling in her eyes.

“Worth it,” he grins, leaning down to lay a quick kiss on her forehead.

 

***

 

When they enter the restaurant and give their name the maître-d takes them straight over to a table, where they find Kaoru already there. He stands up to greet them with a warm smile and hugs and kisses for both. Even now, with high school and uni behind them, the twins still look almost completely alike. Their shoulders have broadened the same way, their hair grown out to a similar length, mannerisms mirrored in each other. The burnished gold of their eyes remains the same, as it always has.

“Sorry we're late,” says Haruhi as they take their seats. “I really hope you weren't sitting here for long.”

“Don't worry about it,” said Kaoru, waving a hand cheerily. “It's fine.”

“Looks like we're not that last ones here though,” says Hikaru. “You said you wanted us to meet someone?”

Kaoru gives an even wider smile. “Yeah, should be here soon.”

“Well, I'm going to get a drink from the bar,” says Hikaru, standing up again. “Haruhi?”

“A white wine spritzer please,” she says.

“Kaoru?”

“Uhh... I'm not sure. I'll come with you and see what they've got,” says Kaoru, standing up too. The twins cross the restaurant to go over to the bar along one wall.

“So I don't see a ring on her yet,” says Kaoru.

“No,” says Hikaru. “I still haven't found the right time.”

“Wow, you've been meaning to do this for, what, six months? You never take that long over anything,” says Kaoru. “I'm sure she doesn't need it to be perfect, she puts up with you after all!”

Hikaru pretends to whack his brother in the back of his head. “Yeah well, even if she doesn't need it to be perfect I do,” he says.

A bartender comes over and takes their drink orders; the rest of the conversation is punctuated with sounds of ice shaking in a cocktail mixer.

“But when is the perfect time?” asks Kaoru.

“I don't know, I suck at this shit,” sighs Hikaru. “I feel like all the ideas I've had are really lame and not right for _her_.”

Kaoru chuckles. “You need to stop overthinking it. You _know_ Haruhi. Just... keep it simple and remember you've got the rest of your lives together to make things as perfect as you want.”

Hikaru ponders this as they get their drinks and take them back over to the table where Haruhi still sits, only she's not alone. Sitting in the empty seat and chatting to her is a man with silky dark hair and glasses that catch the light as he inclines his head.

“Kyouya?”

Kyouya looks up at Hikaru's confused question with a pleasant smile.

“Good evening,” he says, standing and shaking Hikaru's hand.

“It's good to see you again,” says Hikaru as he sits down.

Kaoru, however, with a grin as wide as his own face, leans in and hugs Kyouya tightly, placing a kiss on his cheek. Kyouya responds in kind, squeezing Kaoru around his waist.

“Err...” Hikaru's brow is furrowed as he looks at the greeting. “I guess it's been a while...?”

He looks to Haruhi, who's looking back at him with a strange, tentative expression as Kaoru and Kyouya break apart and sit down.

“You're late,” Kaoru admonishes Kyouya.

“How do I know you weren't early?” says Kyouya with a teasing smile.

“I told you Hikaru made the reservations for seven.”

“You told me a quarter past.”

“Did not!” Kaoru punches Kyouya lightly on the shoulder.

“You invited Kyouya?” asks Hikaru. “I thought you wanted to introduce us to your new girlfriend...”

Kaoru bites his lip, wearing an abashed face that Hikaru isn't used to.

“Hikaru... Kyouya is the person I wanted to introduce you to,” he says slowly.

“But we already know Kyouya!” laughs Hikaru. “If you wanted us to have dinner together you could have just said; you know I'm shit at staying in touch with people myself.”

“No, Hikaru...” Kaoru looks distinctly uncomfortable now.

Something finally clicks in Hikaru's mind.

“You... don't have a girlfriend, do you?” he asks.

Kaoru squirms, looking between his brother and Kyouya. “I never said anything about a girlfriend, only that I'd found someone...”

“You failed to mention that that person was _Kyouya_ ,” says Hikaru.

“What's wrong with that?” asks Kaoru, seemingly emboldened by Hikaru's tone. “Yeah I could have mentioned it sooner but you don't need to act like a dick about it.”

“There's nothing wrong with it,” says Haruhi firmly, grabbing Hikaru's hand under the table and squeezing hard. “Is there, Hikaru?”

Hikaru turns his face to her and sees her fixing him with a hard stare that clearly says 'we will talk about this later, stop being an arse'. He bites back a retort and sighs.

“No, you're right, there's nothing wrong,” he says. “I'm just... a bit surprised is all.”

There's still a palpable tension in his voice and the set of his shoulders but he says nothing else for some time and busies himself with his menu. Kaoru continues to glance between the others, knowing that Hikaru is _not_ just surprised but also not wanting to touch a nerve and cause Hikaru to explode at them all. Haruhi does her best to offer Kaoru encouraging looks while still holding Hikaru's hand and drawing soothing circles on it with her thumb. Kyouya looks disinterested in the obvious tension, almost to the point of boredom. After the waiter has come and taken their order, Haruhi clears her throat.

“So... Kyouya what are you up to now?” she asks, giving Hikaru's hand a final squeeze before letting go.

“I'm working in business and contract acquisition management for the Ootori Medical Group,” he says, and they all hear the undercurrent of bitterness in his voice. Realistically he never stood a chance against Yuuichi in gaining absolute control of the company, but his determination had convinced him – and all the rest of the Host Club – that he did... Until his father had officially named Yuuichi as heir that is.

“That's really important though,” says Kaoru, evidently trying to offer some comfort. “You get to do all the negotiating with other companies and stuff.”

“It's not the same though, is it?” says Kyouya.

Kaoru covers Kyouya's hand with one of his own. “Hey, don't say that. Without you the company wouldn't be able to function.”

Kyouya turns his face to Kaoru's, responding to Kaoru's earnest expression with a small smile. “You're probably right,” he says. His gaze flicks briefly to Hikaru – who, without a menu to stare at, is taking a great interest in the cutlery on the table – before he leans in to give Kaoru a quick peck to the lips. As he draws away, he glances at Hikaru again, making the shortest moment of eye contact. Hikaru's definitely watching now, and a flush of red has begun to creep up out of his collar. Yet he says nothing, pressing his lips together in a thin line and decidedly turning his face away to look towards the bar, pretending to people-watch.

Kaoru is similarly silent and a furious shade of pink, but there's a tentative smile playing about his mouth. He covers it with his free hand and sends shy, happy glances to both Haruhi and Kyouya. Soon the waiter appears with their food and they're able to distract themselves in eating and discussing it. Haruhi is even able to coax some words out of Hikaru over the first course and eventually between her efforts and another martini, he opens up a little bit more and manages to have a semi-sensible conversation with the rest of them, though he seems to still be trying his best to ignore that Kyouya is there. Kaoru, on the other hand, spends the rest of the meal with a giddy, excited smile on his face.

 

***

 

Later, after Hikaru and Haruhi have returned back to the hotel suite, she goes to the mirror and starts taking off her jewellery and putting it in the box on the dressing table while Hikaru pulls off his tie.

“It was nice to see Kaoru,” she says. “I know you missed him when we were away.”

“Yeah,” says Hikaru as he puts the tie away and starts to unbutton his shirt.

“And it was good to see Kyouya too,” she says. “Unexpected but good.”

“Yeah,” says Hikaru, his voice much lower at the mention of Kyouya.

“I wouldn't have expected that to happen,” she admits, starting to take off what little make up she put on earlier. “I'm guessing you had no idea either?”

Hikaru shakes his head and plops down onto the bed in his trousers.

They stay silent for a short while as Haruhi finishes cleaning her face and gets up from the dressing table.

“Kaoru seems really happy, you know.”

Hikaru looks up and finds that she's standing in front of him, her hand going to the side of her dress to unzip it.

“Huh?” he asks.

“Kaoru. You know, your brother?” She gives him a little smile that then turns to a look of struggle. “Can you help me with this? I think the zip is stuck...”

He opens his arms towards her and she steps towards him so he can try and sort out the zip. She puts one arm around his shoulders.

“Just try not to be angry about it,” she says. “I know you're not happy with Kyouya but for Kaoru's sake you need to let it go.”

Hikaru sighs, still fiddling with the zip but enjoying the feeling of her hand gently massaging the back of his neck and head. “Yeah I know. Just... I really hated seeing Kyouya... touching him like that. It's... weird.”

“I know,” says Haruhi. “But Kaoru is happy and if Kyouya is what makes him happy then you should let them be.”

Hikaru finally gets the zip free of the fabric it was caught on and pulls it down for her. Haruhi steps back and pulls the dress off, her short-bobbed hair getting mussed from the motion. She looks younger again, thinks Hikaru, especially when she shakes her fringe out of her eyes and lays the dress over the back of a sofa.

“All I'm saying is you need to relax,” she says, coming to sit beside him on the bed. “They haven't even been together that long yet – who's to say they'll stay together?”

Hikaru's stomach gives a hopeful twinge. As much as he hates the idea of Kaoru being upset for any reason he really _hates_ the way Kyouya looked at him, and the glance he shared with Kyouya just after the kiss is ingrained in his head. He can just hope that the 'relationship' (if it can _charitably_ be called such) will end soon and Kaoru moves on from it quickly.

“You're right,” he concedes, turning to look at her. “I've been a dick.”

She nods. “Yep.”

“Answer faster, why don't you?” he asks, but the grin on his face quickly turns into a laugh and he leans in to kiss her.

“You're amazing,” he says, golden eyes tender. “And I'm sorry.”

“I know,” she responds with a playful smile.

 

***

 

Across Manhattan, in another hotel suite, Kyouya pushes Kaoru down onto a king-sized bed, pinning his arms and legs. Kaoru gasps as Kyouya's lips start running up and down his neck, biting and sucking on the sensitive skin.

“Ah! Don't leave a mark!” he pleads, trying to struggle free of Kyouya's hold on him and relishing the feeling of helplessness that he gets when he can't.

Kyouya pins Kaoru's hands up over his head with one of his own while his free hand unbuttons his shirt. With his chest exposed, Kaoru arches his back into Kyouya's touch, trying to get him to touch him more, move lower. Kyouya seems to read his mind: his hand drifts down and brushes the bulge in Kaoru's trousers, earning a soft moan. He catches Kaoru's bottom lip with his teeth and nibbles on it as his hand dips into the waistband of Kaoru's trousers but then it's gone again.

“Hmm... I don't know if you deserve this yet, _Kaoru_ ,” he says in a low, dangerous voice and Kaoru makes a strangled, pleading noise at the sound of his name. Kyouya gets up off Kaoru, who starts to sit up, but then his hair is grabbed and he is pulled from the bed.

Kyouya sits in an armchair, depositing Kaoru on his knees at his feet.

“Show me that you deserve to come tonight.”

As Kaoru unzips Kyouya's trousers and takes his cock into his mouth, he thinks fleetingly that he hopes Hikaru comes around eventually – this is too good to lose.

 


	3. Chapter 2

Haruhi's twenty-third birthday dawns grey, the early February air cold and unmoving. The alarm coaxes her out of sleep and she hits snooze, rolling over onto her side and coming face-to-face with Hikaru, who pulls her into a lethargic hug.

“Happy birthday,” he breathes against her neck, leaving a kiss on her warm skin.

“Thank you,” she smiles. She strokes his hair and then begins to sit up. “I have to get up.”

“Noooo...” Hikaru pulls her closer against him and shakes his head slowly, eyes still closed. “No, we should stay in bed all day and celebrate your birthday.”

Haruhi groans and tries half-heartedly to extricate herself. “But I have to go to work,” she says. “I have stuff to prepare for a case next week.”

“Work from home,” he says. “Better yet, work from bed. Better yet, _don't_ work from bed, I'll keep you entertained.”

Haruhi laughs. “I'm sure you will.”

“So take today off, they owe you time off anyway,” he suggests.

“I don't know...” says Haruhi.

“Haruhiiii, it's your birthday, just relaaaaax.”

She kisses him briefly before sitting up properly. “I'll go call my boss.”

Soon she returns to the bed and they stay there for the rest of the morning.

 

***

 

Hikaru feels his heart beating hard and fast in his ears. He can barely hear the gentle piano and violin music coming from the corner of the restaurant, he can't even remember what he had as a starter and the steak on his plate seems to be taking forever to chew. Haruhi looks beautiful (he's not sure she ever couldn't) and it only makes his tongue feel fuzzier. All day he's made sure her birthday is wonderful, but now with the ring box burning a hole in his pocket he's practically shaking. She looks up from her empty plate and gives him a warm smile, which he hopes he returns.

“Are you okay?” she asks.

“Yeah, why?” he replies, his voice higher than usual.

She raises her eyebrows. “You've been very... strange this evening.”

“Me? Strange? Nahhhh...” He lets out a nervous laugh – _oh god this plan is terrible abort abort_ – and turns his attention to the last few bites left on his plate.

When the waiter takes away the plates and the two of them are left alone, Hikaru leans forward towards Haruhi. “I'll be back in a sec.”

He walks towards the toilets but intercepts a waiter on the way.

“Hey Kazuki... everything set?” he asks in a low voice.

Kazuki nods. “Yes, everything's ready for you sir.”

“Perfect...” Hikaru glances back over his shoulder to Haruhi and sighs. “God, I'm so nervous... What if she hates it?”

“She won't hate it sir, we guarantee it.”

“What if she does?”

“We'll give you your dinner for free sir.”

Hikaru laughs. “Thank you, Kazuki, and thank you for helping to arrange this.”

Kazuki bows his head towards Hikaru. “It's a pleasure to help you sir.”

Hikaru leaves Kazuki and walks back over to the table where Haruhi still sits. Approaching the table, he gives her a grin, but as he gets closer he seems to lose his balance and falls forwards. Haruhi gives a small sound of surprise and stands in time for Hikaru to roll over, pulling the ring box from his pocket as he goes. He comes to kneel at her feet, holding out the open ring box towards her with a grin. Behind him the waiters gather and hold up a banner that reads 'Haruhi will you marry me?' in large characters.

Haruhi looks taken-aback at the sudden change in things and takes in the whole scene in an open-mouthed stare. She feels the looks of everyone else in the restaurant on her and her face fills with a pink flush. She can't keep a grimace from her face and even as she tries to cover her mouth with her hands Hikaru sees the flash of sheer embarrassment cross her features.

_Shit shit shit oh god she hates it oh god I've fucked it._

“Er...” he starts, not sure what to do with the silence and thinking the free dinner might be tonight's saving grace. “Umm...”

_Yeah real eloquent you idiot._

“Haruhi...”

She looks at him, face still luminous red and eyes wide.

“Er... I'm sorry, I didn't think this through,” he says, hoping he can try and rectify things. “I was running out of ideas and then I thought this might be simple but romantic but I...” He sighs. “”I messed up. I just... Will you marry me?”

Haruhi stares at him some more, hands still clapped over her mouth, but then slowly nods.

“Yes... Yes I'll marry you!” She lowers her hands and he sees a sweet smile adorning her face.

Hikaru's face splits into a grin. “Really?!” He stands, taking her hand in his. “You mean it?”

“Yes, you idiot!” she laughs. “Just please stop everyone staring!”

Hikaru pulls the ring out of the box and puts it on her finger, leaning in to kiss her and drawing applause from the rest of the patrons. They break apart and sit down, the others in the restaurant falling silent and returning to their meals.

Hikaru searches her face, tilting his head to peer under her fringe. “Was that too cheesy?” he asks.

She nods but doesn't lose her smile. “Like a fondue.”

“I'm sorry... Just this was the first idea I liked,” he explains.

“It's fine,” she laughs, looking down at the gold ring – with a dainty but perfectly cut diamond – now encircling the ring finger on her left hand. “This is beautiful...”

 

***

 

Hikaru calls Kaoru that night to excitedly babble down the phone at him and the next evening they and Haruhi go to a cocktail bar to celebrate together. Kaoru grins and admires the ring – even though he helped Hikaru pick it out, it's an entirely different thing to see it on Haruhi's hand – and enthuses about the upcoming wedding (though nothing is planned yet obviously). Nevertheless, Hikaru and Haruhi notice a slight wistfulness to Kaoru's expression.

“Are you okay?” asks Hikaru eventually and Kaoru's hand falters where he's been running his finger up and down the side of his champagne flute.

“Yeah, just... missing Kyouya,” he says, throwing a quick glance to Hikaru after he says it.

Hikaru's jaw sets as he looks down at his own champagne. “I didn't realise you were still together.”

“Yeah, we are,” says Kaoru, a slight flush coming to his cheeks.

“Is he away on business?” asks Haruhi, abandoning subtlety in favour of simply steering the conversation to an easier place.

“Yes he's in Germany,” says Kaoru. “He's coming back for a couple of days soon and I'll see him briefly them but then he'll be gone again until the end of the month.”

“That is a little while,” says Haruhi. “But London Fashion Week is coming up soon right? That'll be a good distraction for you.”

“Yeah, actually I forgot to tell you Hikaru,” says Kaoru. “Mum sent me the details for the flight, it's leaving four hours earlier than originally planned.”

“What? Why?” asks Hikaru.

“Something about she wants us to get to London early to meet with some fabric people,” explains Kaoru.

“Ugh, what a pain...” Hikaru says.

“Will you be joining us Haruhi?” asks Kaoru.

“No, I have a big case coming up,” says Haruhi. “I'll have to stay here and work I'm afraid.”

“That's a shame,” says Kaoru. “Won't you be bored?”

“No, like I said I have a lot of work to do,” she says. “And Tamaki will be in town, he'll want to celebrate the engagement at some point so I'll go see him while he's here.”

“I haven't seen Tamaki in a while, didn't he get engaged to a French girl?” asks Kaoru.

“I didn't think they'd got engaged yet?” says Hikaru with a questioning look to Haruhi, who shrugs.

“He hasn't mentioned anyone in his emails,” she says. “I know he was seeing someone a while ago but she hasn't come up lately.” She puts down her glass. “I'll be right back.”

“Maybe they broke up?” suggests Kaoru as Haruhi walks away.

“Well no girl will ever match up to his sainted mother so I can't say I'm that surprised,” puts in Hikaru. “How many girlfriends has he had now?”

“After Haruhi?” asks Kaoru. “A few I think. Haruhi would be the best person to ask – she emails him more than any of the rest of us.”

“True,” says Hikaru. “I find it so hard to remember to email anyone.”

“And that's why I take care of the communications side of things at work.”

 

***

 

A few weeks later when Hikaru and Kaoru touch down in London, the air is grey and full of moisture, and they wonder how long it will be until the skies finally open up and drench the city.

“I thought it was cold in Tokyo,” says Kaoru, watching a man struggle with an inside-out umbrella and a woman chasing memos down the street outside the hotel. “At least the wind chill there was less bad.”

Hikaru grunts in affirmation and continues unpacking his suitcase – the jet-lag is not sitting well with him and the two of them are expected at a meeting with William Morris & Co in an hour to look at fabric samples for their mother. Hikaru can't even muster enough energy to care which tie he puts on for this meeting, let alone which fabrics are going to work with the autumnal collection.

Kaoru comes over and helps Hikaru, plunging his hands into the suitcase to pull things out and help Hikaru find a tie to put on, leaving items of clothing on the bed.

“I'm sorry you didn't sleep well on the plane,” says Kaoru as he takes out a gold-coloured, floral-patterned tie and holds it up for Hikaru.

“S'not your fault,” says Hikaru, taking the tie. “I just couldn't get comfy and get to sleep.”

He pulls up his collar and puts the tie around his neck, fingers starting to wrap one end around the other.

“I can go to the William Morris thing on my own if you want to try and get some rest,” says Kaoru, but Hikaru waves a hand at him.

“I can't let you go and be bored on your own,” he says, hands fumbling on the tie. Kaoru watches him struggle with the knot for a little longer before taking the tie and deftly tying it.

“At least you know you'll sleep well tonight and hopefully things will be better soon,” says Kaoru.

Hikaru nods and lets Kaoru take the lead in the afternoon's meeting with the fabric designers, drinking cups of coffee to try and stave off some of the tiredness.

 

***

 

When they get back to the hotel suite that night, Hikaru's bed is still covered in clothes from where he half-unpacked his suitcase earlier. He stares at it, trying to will himself to have enough energy to put the clothes away (or at least put them somewhere that isn't the bed), but before he can Kaoru offers to share his bed and he's too tired to do anything but nod, get undressed and crawl under the covers.

As he's drifting off with his brother lying beside him he thinks distantly that he almost feels like he's back home in high school, before things got complicated, when he spent his time coming up with pranks and finding ways to annoy Tamaki and the others. Now he worries about fabric patterns and jet-lag and proposals. A small, easy smile appears on his face as he finally falls asleep.

 

***

 

The next morning Hikaru wakes when Kaoru slips out of bed to go take a shower. He rubs his eyes and rolls out of bed too, stumbling about and looking at the clock.

“Ugh...” He's not late yet but he needs to get in the shower soon if he and Kaoru are going to make the breakfast meeting with the people from Vanessa Arbuthnott. He sheds his clothes and follows Kaoru into the bathroom, stepping into the enormous shower with his brother. Kaoru looks over his shoulder, eyebrows raised in surprise, but then seems to accept it and hands Hikaru the shampoo.

“How are you doing?” he asks. “Did you sleep okay?”

“Yeah,” says Hikaru, squeezing shampoo into his hand. “Still going to need lots of coffee today but definitely less crappy than yesterday.”

“That's good,” says Hikaru, tipping back his head to rinse his hair. “At least after this meeting we get to just go see some catwalk shows and stuff.”

Hikaru nods. “That will be good,” he says. “Talking to people is so much more effort.”

“Plus the first show is Zandra Rhodes, so it should be interesting,” adds Kaoru.

Hikaru reaches out to grab the bar of soap off the shelf next to Kaoru but feels it slide and it falls to the marble floor with a clunk.

He crouches down on his haunches to pick it up and comes to eye level with the backs of Kaoru's thighs. He wouldn't normally think anything of them but for the blue-green bruises currently splashed across the pale skin. He stares at them, brows furrowed, and he all but forgets the soap.

“Er, Kaoru?”

“Yeah?”

“Did you fall funny or something?”

“Hmm?” Kaoru turns to see where Hikaru is looking and immediately flushes. “Oh... er, don't worry about that, it's nothing.”

Hikaru grabs the soap and stands up, still frowning. “Kaoru what happened to you?”

Kaoru shakes his head, busying himself with conditioning his hair. “Nothing, Hikaru, it's fine, and besides, they're not that bad.”

“I'm not buying it,” says Hikaru, putting the soap in the dish and folding his arms.

“Oh my god, Hikaru, just drop it, I'm fine.”

Something about Kaoru's tone makes Hikaru's mind jump to an awful idea.

“Did... did Kyouya hurt you?” he asks, acid rising in his throat and blood draining from his face.

“No,” says Kaoru, but the set of his jaw and the fact that he's still staring determinedly at the conditioner bottle on the shelf gives Hikaru a panicky feeling in his belly.

“Kaoru, if he's hurt you–”

“He hasn't,” insists Kaoru.

“Then why are you acting like he has?”

“Because... because...” Kaoru looks almost on the verge of angry tears. “I... just...”

“Just what?”

“Look, Hikaru, I don't expect you to understand,” says Kaoru, finally meeting Hikaru's stare. “Just understand that I'm fine...”

Hikaru's still frowning. “But Kao–”

“We've got to go or we're going to be late,” says Kaoru. He practically leaps from the shower and wraps a huge fluffy taupe towel around himself before leaving the bathroom. Hikaru stays in the shower, staring after Kaoru, before rinsing off and then leaving the bathroom too.

When he gets out, Kaoru is already dressed and drying his hair in front of the mirror. He says nothing, his face retaining some of the pinkness around the edges and on the tip of his nose, and Hikaru doesn't want to bring any more strain to his brother's expression. Instead he dresses too, trying to find something else to talk about to try and take the tension out of the air between them.

In the end, all he can do is wait until they get into the cab to go to the breakfast meeting before leaning over and pulling Kaoru into a hug.

“I'm sorry.”

Kaoru lifts his hands to put them on the arm across his chest. “Really?” he asks.

“Yes,” says Hikaru. “I should trust you more to know what you're doing and I don't really get it... but I still worry about you. Does that make sense?”

“I get it,” says Kaoru. “Just... let me make my own decisions, yeah?”

“Yeah I'll try,” says Hikaru. “But promise me if anything... happens you'll be able to stay safe?”

Kaoru nods. “Of course,” he says.

 

***

 

The next couple of days pass by in a blur of meetings with important people, catwalk shows and fancy events and parties. The pair of them make connections with other designers, chat animatedly with people about the upcoming Hitachiin collections and watch models walk the runways wearing all manner of weird and wonderful pieces by different designers. With everything going on, the bruises leave Hikaru's mind entirely and he throws himself into the job at hand.

Backstage at the Hitachiin catwalk show – held in an old refurbished factory – is chaos. Hikaru and Kaoru become a production line, putting finishing touches to all the models before they go out and making sure things are up to the exacting standards set by their mother. They barely register anything other than clothes, accessories and make up until the end of the show, when they go on the catwalk to take their bow. They talk briefly about the collection, the models, how lovely and hospitable London has been, keeping things light and chatty. As they're leaving the stage, Hikaru feels a creeping in his stomach and he gazes around to look into the crowd.

A shiver shoots up his spine as his eyes fall upon a dark-haired, bespectacled man who casts a smile in his direction. He stumbles down the steps that lead back stage and lands flat on his face among a small gaggle of models, who gasp in unison and surround him with a chorus of “Are you alright?” He pulls himself to sitting and finds Kaoru has knelt beside him.

“Whoa, are you okay?” he asks.

Hikaru nods. “Yeah just uh... got a bit light-headed. Those lights are hot as hell.”

He shoots a charming smile to the models around him – something he perfected in high school – and gets a murmur of assent in response as someone hands him a bottle of water. He gets to his feet and takes a swig, suddenly remembering how little he's had to drink today. He wonders briefly (hopefully) if seeing Kyouya in the crowd was some kind of dehydrated hallucination or mirage but–

“Kyouya?!” Kaoru sounds delighted.

_Ah fuck._

 

***

 

“Hey Haruhi, it's Hikaru... I know you're probably in bed right now because it's like... two or three AM or something, I just... I dunno, I guess I wanted to talk to you somehow... I miss you. London's nice and the week's going well but I can't wait to come home to you. Kyouya showed up so Kaoru's been spending a lot of time with him when we're not working and it's been kinda lonely. I keep reminding myself that it's only a couple more days but I miss having you there with me when I wake up in the morning. Anyway, I hope work's going okay and I'll talk to you soon. Bye.”


	4. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone, Pandora here. Again, this chapter isn't getting super crazy yet - I think this is one of the last 'calm before the storm' chapters!

Haruhi sits in the armchair in the corner of the study, slipping wedding invitations into addressed envelopes and sealing them shut with stickers, making a stack of them on the coffee table next to a glass of orange juice she takes sips from occasionally. She frowns thoughtfully at one of the invitations and gets up to show it to Hikaru, sat at the desk with another pile of envelopes and invitations.

“Who are the Himuras?” she asks.

Hikaru peers at the invitation in her hand. “I think they're some business partners of my mother's,” he guesses.

“So... why are they invited?” she asks.

“Because we let my mother help with organising the wedding and she kept bugging me about it so I decided to just let her have her way,” he explains. “I think she's been trying to set up Kaoru with the Himuras' daughter for a few years.”

Haruhi shrugs and puts down the invitation on the desk. “Fair enough, though he's still pretty smitten with Kyouya so I don't see that happening any time soon.” Hikaru stiffens at the mention of Kyouya but Haruhi ploughs on, determined to snap him out of this attitude by treating it as completely normal. “Speaking of which, Kaoru called me to say he won't need a plus one for the wedding.”

Hikaru frowns. “Why?”

“Well Kyouya has his own invitation and Kaoru said there was no point wasting a plus one on him that he won't need,” explains Haruhi.

Hikaru glowers, hands faltering on the envelope he holds. “I still don't get it,” he says.

“What's wrong with it?” she asks. “Kaoru's happy.”

“Kyouya's a dick, that's what's wrong with it,” says Hikaru flatly.

Haruhi shakes her head. “I don't see why you think so. Kyouya's a nice guy.”

Hikaru seems to hesitate for a moment, mouth opening and closing again. Eventually, he says, “He was really rude to me in London,” he says. He knows the argument sounds weak. “He blanked me and didn't even seem sorry to use up all of Kaoru's free time.”

“Well presumably Kaoru was happy to spend his free time with Kyouya,” points out Haruhi. “If you wanted to spend more time with Kaoru you should have said something to him.”

“Yeah but like you said,” says Hikaru. “Kaoru's happy. I can't be that arsehole who says he can't spend time with his... whatever.”

Haruhi sighs. “It's understandable to feel a little jealous. Just... don't let it get to you too much. It'll only make things worse.”

One of her hands comes to the back of Hikaru's head so she can run her fingers through his hair and rub light circles into his neck. Despite his tension, he feels a warmth rush down his spine and he exhales slowly, settling back in his chair and pushing it away from the desk slightly to stretch out his legs.

“Sorry I had to rope you into doing this on your birthday,” she says softly, apparently keen to change the subject finally, leaning down and wrapping her arms around his neck from behind, resting her chin on his shoulder. She leaves a quick kiss on the side of his neck, smiling when she feels him sigh again.

“Well it had to be done,” he says breathlessly. “And we'll go somewhere nice for dinn–”

He stops short when he feels Haruhi's tongue running along the apex of his ear, down to his earlobe. Her teeth join in a moment later, nipping at the soft fold of skin and cartilage and tugging on it a little. He becomes instantly aware of how warm the room is.

“Uh...”

Haruhi's fingers come back to his neck, dipping into his collar while her mouth continues its ministrations on his ear.

“Haruhi we have to finish with the invitations...” He gulps.

“I'm bored,” she purrs. “And it's your birthday, you should get a present.”

Hikaru groans quietly. “But you said we had to get this done...”

Haruhi's mouth withdraws and she cups his cheek with one hand so she can turn his face to hers and look into his eyes. “Tell you what...” She strokes his cheekbone with her thumb and kisses him quickly on the lips. “You can carry on doing this...” She tilts her head towards the desk and the pile of invitations. “While I...” – she stands up straight and walks around to stand between him and the desk – “do this...” She sinks to her knees in front of him and puts her hands on his thighs.

He groans louder this time while her hands travel to his in-seams and then upwards, gently brushing over the steadily-growing tent in his tailored shorts on the way to his belt buckle.

“I uh...” Hikaru stammers out over the click of his belt being undone. “I could... uh... I could take a break if you want.”

“Nuh-uh,” says Haruhi, pulling open his belt. “You said it needed doing so you're going to sit tight and finish doing them. So, get to it. Unless you're too chicken.”

She flashes him a wicked look and pops his button open. Hikaru bites his lip and pulls his chair in towards the desk again in wordless acceptance of her challenge – she shuffles back on her haunches to give him room. He sucks a shaky breath in through his teeth to steady himself and picks up the first invitation. He drops it again when he feels Haruhi pulling the zip of his shorts down with her teeth.

“Don't crumple them,” she says airily once the zip is down and she dips her hand into his boxers. “I'm sure your mother won't be happy with you if they get to the guests with folds in them.”

Hikaru swallows a moan and tilts his head back, feeling her fingers stroking up and down his cock and her breath ghosting over the heated flesh. He picks the invitation up again and finds the corresponding envelope for it, holding both with the tips of his fingers to avoid creasing them by accident while Haruhi pulls his cock out fully and starts dragging her hand up and down. He sighs and tries to get used to the sensation, pushing the card into the envelope with a little more force than necessary. He hears a quiet chuckle from the region of his groin before he feels her tongue flick at the tip of his erection and then her lips close around the head. He groans, the sound starting in the back of his throat and pushing forward and out through his gritted teeth.

“You don't seem to be getting them done very quickly,” teases Haruhi.

“I cave, I don't care about the invitations!” he moans, putting down the envelope he just filled, but Haruhi shakes her head.

“No I'm enjoying this now,” she says with a grin. “Better get them done quick if you want this to end because I'm not stopping until you've finished.”

He grips the arms of the chair, knuckles turning white and trembling. He loves the downright evil glint in her eyes and all he wants right now is to pull her into his lap and have her ride him until she's screaming... But at the same time he loves the feeling of letting her take control and tease him like this. He leans forward and picks up the next invitation, feeling Haruhi's lips curve into a smile against his cock.

The going is slow: in his anxiousness not to damage the cards, Hikaru's movements are tentative and he only manages a couple in the first few minutes. Haruhi's hands, lips and tongue work together to make him shudder and moan. When he pauses to enjoy the sensations for a minute, he feels a flick to his balls and jumps, looking down between his legs to see her looking up at him with raised eyebrows.

“You haven't earned a break,” she tells him.

Hikaru whines. “But it's my _birthday_...”

“And you were _very_ insistent on getting the invitations done,” she says, one hand still stroking up and down his cock. “So get on with it. You can't have many more to do anyway.”

Hikaru exhales hard and grabs the next invitation and envelope, determined to try and get them done quickly. He's sealing the envelope with a golden heart-shaped sticker when he feels her swallow him whole and gasps, hands jerking. The sticker folds and sticks to the envelope, a thin ridge slanting across it. He stares at it in horror but is quickly distracted by Haruhi's tongue dragging up and down his erection. He grunts and drops the invitation on the desk. He doesn't think Hani will be _that_ distraught with the untidy sticker.

The room fills with the sound of heavy breathing and quiet sucking, smacking sounds, interspersed with the occasional sound of paper and card shifting against one another and murmur of 'oh God' from Hikaru. Haruhi takes things painfully slowly, keeping Hikaru guessing what she'll do next. Eventually, after what feels like hours, Hikaru puts the final invitation down on the desk with a sigh.

“I'm done.”

He looks down and meets Haruhi's eyes and the sight almost makes him lose control. Her eyes are wide and innocent-looking as she draws her lips further up his cock, eventually letting it pop out of the 'o' of her mouth.

“Well done,” she says with a smile, her lips glistening with saliva and one hand still stroking up and down his cock. “Now how about the ones _I_ have left?”

Hikaru makes a high, strangled sound and his eyes go wide as he looks over to where Haruhi was sitting before... to see a neatly-stacked pile of filled envelopes on the coffee table. He looks back down at her and is answered with another mischievous grin.

“Just kidding,” she laughs.

“Oh god Haruhi, don't make jokes like that right now...” He flops back in the chair and moans as she continues stroking his cock.

“Hmm, did you not enjoy it?” she asks. “Do you want me to stop?”

“No!” he says quickly. “Please don't stop!”

She gives a little laugh and gets up, letting go of Hikaru's cock finally and leaning forward to kiss him on the mouth. Hikaru pulls her to him and immediately deepens the kiss, touching his tongue to hers and making a desperate sound in the back of his throat. She wraps her arms around his neck and pulls him to standing, their lips still moving against one another. His undone shorts and boxers fall down around his feet and his erection pokes her in the tummy. She brings one hand back to it, dragging her fingers up and down it and making Hikaru's hips twitch involuntarily.

Suddenly, it's too much for him and he half-growls into her mouth, hands moving down to her backside and squeezing before lifting her and sitting her on the edge of the desk.

“Hikaru...” she breathes as his lips move from hers to leave heated kisses along her jaw and down her neck. “The invitations...”

“Screw the invitations,” he says, drawing away from her and looking at her with his intense golden eyes before sweeping one arm across his desk and pushing everything onto the floor, including the invitations, pens and various business documents.

Hikaru returns to kissing her and his hands clutch at her t-shirt while hers go to the buttons on his linen shirt. She makes quick work of it, pushing it from his shoulders to join the rest of his clothes on the floor and he pulls her t-shirt up and over her head, hands going straight to her back to unclasp her bra and toss it over his shoulder. Haruhi bites his lip and he responds in kind, fingertips running around the waistband of her shorts to undo the button. He pulls down the zip and she wriggles out of the shorts and her underwear, the wood of the desk cool against the skin of her bottom. Hikaru cups her small breasts in his hands, thumbs tracing lightly over her nipples. She shivers and groans, hands running down his belly to hold his cock again. One of his hands travels down between her legs, probing gently and she jerks.

“Feeling sensitive?” he asks, lips slowly curving up into a lazy grin.

“Just a little,” she breathes as he curls one finger inside her.

Hikaru reaches down with his free hand to one of his desk drawers, sliding it open and retrieving a condom from inside. Haruhi takes it and rolls it onto his cock. His hands go to her hips and pull her to the edge of the desk, pushing himself into her and holding her body flush against his own as they both pant. He starts to rock against her, eliciting gasps and moans from both of them. Her hands come to the back of his neck and pull him down into a heated, messy kiss while his hands grip at her waist. She thinks absently that she's glad the housekeeper has already gone for the day as their voices sound out through the house and she lies back on the desk, feeling Hikaru at a different angle inside her. He thrusts faster, gasping and grunting, feeling her writhe under him as they approach their breaking points.

She lets out a final gasp and cry as she comes, shaking, and the sight pushes him over the edge too. He leans down and kisses her, still thrusting as they ride out their orgasms. When they finally stop moving he pulls himself out of her and takes off the condom, tidying up as best he can with the box of tissues from his desk. She sits up, shivering a little in the light breeze coming through the open window.

“Happy birthday,” she grins.

 

***

 

Hikaru and Haruhi's wedding day is crisp and clear: the kind of early September morning where the leaves still hold their summer green but the air has a chill to it. At Haruhi's insistence the ceremony is small and intimate, but the reception is larger and more lavish. Hikaru looks over the sea of guests from the top table, Haruhi sat on one side of him and Kaoru – his best man – on the other, and he wonders how many of these people he's ever really spoken to. He recognises business partners and distant family members, people his mother has invited. Haruhi's extended family takes up barely two of the tables in the grand hall, and at another the rest of the Host Club and other old friends sit together. Hikaru's gaze flicks briefly to Kyouya's face and thinks their eyes meet for a tiny fraction of a moment before Haruhi touches his arm to ask him about something and the idea is pushed hastily into the back of his mind.

Once everyone has eaten and he and Haruhi have cut the cake and had their first dance, Hikaru finds himself hovering at the edge of the dance floor. He watches Haruhi dancing with her father – well, half dancing with him, half simply holding his hands as he gazes at her with tears in his eyes – until Kaoru sidles up and prods him in the side.

“Hey hey,” he says, following Hikaru's gaze to the dance floor where Haruhi's father seems to have finally given up on the idea of dancing and is simply hugging her close while openly crying. “I hope Ryoji is okay.”

“Ah he'll be fine,” says Hikaru airily, waving a hand. “He's just had a bit of champagne and gets kind of emotional over Haruhi. I don't blame him, she looks beautiful.”

“Yeah, the photographer says she got the _best_ picture of you when Haruhi was coming down the aisle: said you looked like you'd just realised you were the luckiest man in the entire world,” says Kaoru with a tender grin. “I said you might very well be.”

Hikaru laughs and puts an arm around his brother's shoulders. “Thank you for being the greatest best man I could have asked for.”

“No problem.” Kaoru turns the embrace into a full hug, squeezing Hikaru firmly around the waist before they part again. As they look across the dance floor they see Tamaki and Kyouya talking together while surveying the dancing people and Hikaru's stomach lurches unhappily.

“I'm going to go wander about,” says Kaoru. “Need anything else before I do?”

Hikaru shakes his head, forcing himself to look away from Kyouya. “No, I'm fine thanks.”

“Cool, see you in a bit,” says Kaoru before disappearing into the crowd.

As the song ends and the next one starts, Tamaki starts to dance with Haruhi and Hikaru dances with his mother. He notices that Kyouya appears to have vanished from where he was before and wonders briefly where he might have gone. A heavier part of his mind asks if Kaoru is with him and a bitterness settles in the back of his throat.

 

***

 

Hikaru only sees Kaoru a couple more times over the rest of the evening – not that he's not kept busy with the large numbers of people coming to congratulate him and Haruhi, but the absence feels unnatural. He tries to stave off the uneasy knot in the bottom of his spine, but it tightens when Kaoru comes to see him towards the end of the night.

“I'm going to head back to the hotel,” he tells him. There's a slight blush high on his cheekbones and a smile that Hikaru can't place playing about his lips. “Do you still need me for anything or is that okay?”

Hikaru looks at him dumbly for a moment before Haruhi appears at his side.

“You go,” she says with a smile as her hand intertwines with Hikaru's. “I can take it from here.”

Kaoru grins. “Thanks, I'll see you guys in the morning,” he says.

He pulls them both into a tight hug before turning to go. As Hikaru watches him leave he notices Kyouya waiting for him, watching everyone silently from the doorway as Kaoru says goodnight to various guests, and knows exactly why Kaoru looks so happy. His hair stands on end: under his wedding suit he knows he has goosebumps. He grips Haruhi's hand tighter than necessary, using her as a tether to where he stands. She looks up at him.

“Are you okay?” she asks.

Hikaru hesitates but then nods, aware of the roomful of people he is still technically entertaining, though right now he wants nothing more than to follow Kaoru out the door and drag him away from Kyouya.

He feels Haruhi's arm curve around his waist and he pulls her close instinctively, squeezing her shoulder gently.

“Want to disappear soon?” she asks quietly. “It's getting late and we have to catch a plane in the morning.”

He nods, grateful for the distraction, for her, for his _wife_ , and tries to keep the wobble out of his voice as he replies, “Yeah I'd like that.”

They share a brief kiss before making their way around the hall to say goodnight to everyone before they get into a car and are driven back to the hotel. In the elevator on the way up, Haruhi leans her head on Hikaru's shoulder and he rubs a gentle hand up and down her back, feeling the silk and lacing of her bodice under his fingers.

“Tired?” he asks.

“Mmhmm,” she murmurs in assent and he tilts his face to leave a small kiss on her forehead.

“There's a lot more work in a wedding than I was expecting,” he says and she nods.

“I don't know where this idea of a wild wedding night comes from,” she says. “All I can think of using the bed for is sleep.”

Hikaru laughs as the doors to the elevator open. “Well then, let me help you, Mrs Hitachiin.”

He leans down and picks her up, her skirt draping down to his knees as he pulls her against his chest.

“This dress is really heavy,” he comments as he carries her along the corridor.

“Yeah I've never worn something I had to walk so slowly in,” she says.

Hikaru grins as they reach the door to the honeymoon suite. “You might have to help me here,” he says. “The key card is in my breast pocket.”

She reaches for it and he bends down a little so she can swipe the card in the door mechanism. Soon they flop down together on the ridiculously large bed and sigh contentedly. Haruhi rolls over to Hikaru and gives him a lingering kiss.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

They order room service and fall asleep soon after, curled up together under the blankets. As he drifts off, Hikaru's mind goes elsewhere in the hotel and he wonders – with instant regret – if Kaoru is with Kyouya...

 

***

 

Kaoru takes a sip of water and gazes over at the bed where Kyouya sleeps silently. Discarded beside it are a ball gag and a blindfold, along with several meters of soft black rope. It's only a few things, but worth having been brought, if nothing else but for the jolt of excitement he felt in his groin when Kyouya pulled them out of his overnight bag.

He puts down the glass of water and climbs into bed again, leaving a quick kiss to Kyouya's forehead and settling down under the covers. He shifts and feels the familiar twinge in his backside, again worth it.

As he slips towards unconsciousness, he thinks about Hikaru and Haruhi, somewhere on another floor in the honeymoon suite, and hopes that they're okay. Hikaru's face when he left the reception with Kyouya was... indescribable. Kaoru tries to choose a word for it and all he can come up with is 'weird'. Angry and worried, but also scared. He can't place why Hikaru would look at him like that, but his stomach gave an uncomfortable, unhappy quiver at the thought of it.

He resolves before he falls asleep to talk to Hikaru as soon as he can once they're both together again. Something's got to give.

 


	5. Chapter 4

A month after the wedding, Hikaru and Haruhi touch back down in Tokyo, both much browner than before. After collecting their bags they step out into arrivals and see the name 'Hitachiin' on a sign. The sign is expected, but they don't expect to see Kaoru holding it.

“Kaoru!” says Hikaru as they approach. “What are you doing here?”

Kaoru grins. “I wanted to come see you guys.” He pulls his brother into a tight hug, followed by Haruhi. “Plus it's never as much fun to have a servant or something to meet you off the plane.”

Hikaru nods. “Very true. How've things been?”

“Absolutely fine, you left things in a neat place for me to look after them while you were gone,” says Kaoru. “But we're not talking about business now – tell me about your tropical adventures!”

The three of them start to make their way through the airport to the car Kaoru has waiting for them, chatting all the way. Despite the jet-lag, Hikaru can't stop grinning – the time away with Haruhi has been amazing but to see Kaoru again makes him feel sheer joy. His enthusiasm is infectious, and the ride back home is full of laughter and stories. Kaoru tells them about the very large, last minute order of dresses he got from a trendy department store a couple of weeks ago, and Haruhi and Hikaru tell him about the snorkelling they did off the coast of the Dhaalu Atoll.

“It's really good you came to meet us,” says Haruhi as they approach her and Hikaru's house. “We wanted to invite you and Kyouya over for dinner when we came back.”

Kaoru's mouth drops open just a little and there's a pause before he says, “Oh, that'd be really nice...”

He shoots a glance at Hikaru, who's looking at something on his phone with a slightly too-tense jaw but doesn't look surprised or even weird about the mention of Kyouya. Kaoru wonders if he's finally feeling less animosity towards his boyfriend.

“Obviously not right away because we're a little jet-lagged right now,” explains Haruhi. “But maybe next week sometime, if you're both free?”

Kaoru nods, turning his gaze back to Haruhi. “I'll ask him and see when is best for him.”

 

***

 

“... And don't forget to smile maybe a bit more – you know I don't mind you looking kind of stern and Haruhi is super chill but Hikaru doesn't really get that so... I don't know, lighten up I guess? But that sounds bad so... oh I don't know...”

Kaoru knows he hasn't stopped talking the whole way over to Hikaru and Haruhi's house. The nervous fluttering in his tummy hasn't let up either and it makes him trip over his words as he talks to Kyouya about the upcoming dinner. Kyouya sits silently, apparently listening but at the same time gazing off into the middle distance.

“Also remember not to mention 'us' around them too much. I know I said I think Hikaru might be coming around to the idea but we shouldn't be too over the top about it, you know? But then maybe we sh–”

Kaoru's words are suddenly cut off by a hand to the back of his neck and then Kyouya's lips and tongue on his own. He swallows the words and lets his eyes close as he sinks into the kiss. He feels Kyouya's other hand cup his cheek and his own hands go to Kyouya's waist. After what feels like both no time at all and several minutes, they break apart and Kyouya's finger traces Kaoru's bottom lip, wet with spit.

“Stop worrying,” Kyouya says lowly. “They are my friends too, you know.”

Kaoru nods, his golden eyes meeting Kyouya's dark. “I know, I just–”

“Shhh.” Kyouya shakes his head slowly. “It will be fine. I will be on my best behaviour.”

The rest of the (admittedly and unfortunately) short journey passes almost silently but for more kisses, sighs and the quiet sound of fingers running over skin and clothes.

 

***

 

“So you made this all yourself Haruhi?” Kyouya asks over soup.

She nods. “Yeah I wanted to cook, when we were away we never cooked for ourselves and I missed it,” she explains.

“It's lovely,” says Kyouya with a smile.

Kaoru throws a glance to Hikaru, who hasn't said anything beyond greeting the two of them when they arrived and occasional short sentences to Kaoru and Haruhi. He's pulling his bread apart, fingers digging into the crust and ripping slowly. His eyes are fixed firmly on his bowl and Kaoru knows he's biting his tongue.

_So much for coming round to it._

Kaoru can't keep the bitter edge out of the thought. For Hikaru to not like someone he's dating is one thing – he's obviously being protective over his brother – but to act like this around Kyouya, someone he's known for so long and apparently liked up until now, irritates Kaoru. He supported him in his efforts with Haruhi, helped him figure out how to talk to Tamaki about it because Hikaru didn't want to upset him, made sure to make himself scarce when he knew the two of them wanted to be on their own. For Hikaru to pay all of that back with this passive aggression... Kaoru mentally shakes himself as he continues to eat his soup, relieved that Haruhi and Kyouya are able to carry the conversation between the two of them at least, because he can feel that anything he says right now is likely to come out laced with venom.

Soon Haruhi takes away the bowls and goes to get the main course. She waves off Hikaru's offers to help (“It won't take long, you stay here.”) and so the twins and Kyouya remain sitting around the table in awkward silence. Kaoru still doesn't trust himself to speak and, glancing over at Hikaru, it seems the same can be said for him. Instead he looks over to Kyouya, who gives him a reassuring smile that Kaoru can't help but return. Kyouya folds his hands on the table in front of him.

“So where did you go on your honeymoon again Hikaru?” he asks lightly.

Hikaru looks up and meets Kyouya's eyes, face flushing, and then he turns his gaze to the doorway Haruhi has just disappeared through as he quietly replies, “The Maldives.”

Kyouya nods. “That sounds like it was very pleasant.”

“Yeah.”

“I've heard the beaches are beautiful.”

“Yeah.”

“And how was the weather?”

“It rained a bit.”

“Hey Hikaru, tell him about when you guys went to that underwater nightclub,” says Kaoru. He knows he's being petty. He doesn't care.

Hikaru gives him another unreadable expression – he's never seen his brother look at him like that before. Kaoru raises his eyebrows, goading him. Hikaru's eyes fix on a point on the table a few feet in front of him as he mumbles, “Yeah we went to this underwater club where you could see sharks and rays and stuff swimming past the windows, it was pretty cool...”

Hikaru's voice falters away and Kaoru sighs. Fortunately Haruhi reappears with the main course before he can say anything else to Hikaru and she, Kaoru and Kyouya continue on with the conversation while Hikaru continues in silence.

 

***

 

After dinner, Hikaru excuses himself and goes to the bathroom. He splashes his face with water and stares into the mirror. There's visible tension in his face and his gold eyes are wide. He can't even hope that it wasn't obvious to Kaoru and Kyouya how he's feeling: Kaoru definitely knows.

He sighs in frustration, holding his head. He's trying, he really is trying. When he and Haruhi were away and she suggested it, when they were surrounded by beautiful beaches and sunshine nearly every day, he thought he would be able to handle this evening. For Kaoru's sake he wants to like Kyouya and accept Kaoru's situation, but every time he looks at Kyouya he feels a tense knot in his chest and he can't stop thinking about those bruises on Kaoru's legs.

He can feel that Kaoru's getting sick of it, getting sick of him, and he feels the distance between them growing ever day. He screws his eyes shut.

_Just get through the next few hours, they'll be gone then._

He stands up and straightens his hair and collar before going to the door. He's not expecting to find Kaoru standing out there.

“Kaoru?”

“Hikaru.” His brother's face is uncharacteristically serious.

“Uhh... did you need to get into the bathroom?” Hikaru asks.

Kaoru frowns. “Don't play dumb, Hikaru. We need to talk.”

“You're right...” Hikaru sighs and glances down the corridor towards the living room where he can hear Haruhi and Kyouya talking. He grabs Kaoru's wrist. “Come on, I don't want to be disturbed.”

He pulls Kaoru down the corridor into his study, where he turns on the light and shuts the door behind them.

“I just need to know what your problem is,” says Kaoru, folding his arms across his chest. Now that they're alone his face is less angry and there is a tenderness in the set of his eyebrows that encourages Hikaru. “I don't get it.”

Hikaru chews the inside of his bottom lip as he thinks. “I just... I get a really bad vibe off him, you know?”

Kaoru frowns. “I don't, can you explain please?”

Hikaru thinks some more, the silence in the room broken only by the distant sound of Haruhi and Kyouya talking. Eventually, he says, “I know you won't get this, but I worry about you with him. I know you said the bruises weren't to do with him and that you're happy but I just... I worry, you know?”

Kaoru shakes his head. “I already told you, I'm fine. I'm an adult and I can look after myself.”

Hikaru runs his hands through his hair in frustration. “I know, and I'm trying really hard to remember that but he still makes me uncomfortable.”

“Well you'll have to get over it,” says Kaoru, “because I'm happy with him.”

“Why?”

“What do you mean 'why'?”

“What does he do that makes you so happy?”

Kaoru scoffs. “Fuck's sake, Hikaru, I never ask you why you're with Haruhi.”

“Well _you_ never had a problem with her.”

“No I didn't and I don't, and _you_ never had a problem with Kyouya until you found out we were a couple,” points out Kaoru. “I thought you'd be more supportive than this. You were fine with everyone else, even that girl I saw for a few months who had all the snakes.”

“She seemed nice,” says Hikaru sullenly.

“Look...” Kaoru sighs. “I won't ask you to change how you feel overnight, but whatever this is, you need to let go of it, because I really think Kyouya could be the one for me and I don't want that to come between us.”

Hikaru looks at his brother, seeing the earnest look in his eyes, and knows he's not lying. He inhales and exhales slowly, trying to let go of the tension in his throat before he says, “You're sure about this?”

Kaoru nods, tears forming in the corners of his eyes. “I've never felt this way about anyone before.”

Hikaru feels the sting of impending tears too and lowers his head. “Then I'll try. I'll do my absolute best to let go of this so you don't have to worry about me.”

“Really?”

Hikaru lifts his head again to look at his brother. “Yeah, really.”

Without warning, Kaoru steps forward and pulls Hikaru into a tight hug.

“Thank you,” he says, as Hikaru returns the hug.

As they make their way back to the living room to join Haruhi and Kyouya, Hikaru catches Kyouya's eyes. The look in those dark eyes makes his stomach sour and he clenches one hand briefly before he sits down beside Haruhi on the sofa.

_I need to break them up._

 

***

 

“A chai latte please.”

“I'll have the jasmine tea please.”

Haruhi meets Tamaki in a café downtown a few weeks after the dinner with Kyouya and the twins. Their orders taken, the two of them settle into the comfortable armchairs in the private upstairs lounge Tamaki reserved for them and listen to the heavy pounding of rain outside the window.

“Thanks for coming to see me,” says Haruhi. “I know you're busy with your father and grandmother and everything but I appreciate that you were happy to take some time out.”

Tamaki waves a hand. “Think nothing of it, you know I'm always happy to see you.”

“I just wanted to catch up,” she explains. “We didn't get to talk much at the wedding, I was so busy with everyone and everything going on.”

“Yeah I know what you mean,” says Tamaki, eyes flicking to the ring on her left hand. “You looked beautiful though, and the wedding was lovely.”

“Thanks,” says Haruhi. “I can't take much credit for it unfortunately – Yuzuha took care of most of the preparations and designed the dress.”

Tamaki nods. “I don't imagine you would plan the type of wedding that would be considered decadent enough for anyone else,” he chuckles.

“True – had it been up to me we wouldn't have had so many people,” she says.

“Well I must offer my congratulations to you both,” says Tamaki. “I'm certain you'll both be happy together.”

Haruhi smiles and the expression lights her face up so that she glows. “Thank you.”

The waitress returns with their drinks, putting them down on the table before disappearing again. Haruhi takes a sip of her tea while Tamaki stirs his chai thoughtfully.

“What about you?” asks Haruhi. “Have you broken many hearts in France?”

Tamaki shakes his head. “To break the heart of a lovely young woman would surely break my own.”

Haruhi resists the urge to roll her eyes and instead takes another sip of her tea. “And you've not met anyone you feel anything about very strongly?”

“No,” he says, picking up his glass. “I've not been in anything serious since you and I dated in high school.”

“Fair enough,” she says. It's the surprising thing about Tamaki – while many others she knows would think he falls in love quickly and intensely, she knows (partially from experience and partially from long conversations since then) that he takes some time to get into the rhythm of a relationship. “How is your mother?”

Tamaki nods, a bright smile adorning his features. “She's well – I've been taking her to see operas and ballets in Paris and she's been enjoying them...”

The rest of their afternoon passes in quiet conversation and a few more cups of tea.

 

***

 

Hikaru's barely awake when his phone starts trilling and vibrating on his bedside table. He rolls over, the blankets bunching up under his back as he reaches for it.

“Hello?” he murmurs.

“Hey, Hikaru?” The voice is hoarse and quiet.

“Kaoru?” Hikaru asks. “You okay?”

“No I feel terrible,” Kaoru groans. “Been throwing up a lot and my throat hurts.”

“Oh wow that sounds awful,” says Hikaru.

“It is,” says Kaoru. “And it sucks because I wanted to go into the office quickly this morning to pick up those mood boards so I could get some work done.”

“But it's a Saturday,” points out Hikaru.

“I left some stuff half-done yesterday because I felt kinda crappy,” explains Kaoru. “I was going to try and catch up today but I feel like microwaved shit and can't drive. I was wondering if you could grab them for me?”

Hikaru shakes his head and stretches. “Kaoru, don't beat yourself up about being sick, you're allowed to be. Forget about the mood boards, I'm coming over to see you with food and juice and stuff and I'm going to make sure you're okay.”

 

***

 

Half an hour later, Hikaru rings the doorbell and Kaoru answers the door, looking pale and sweaty. He's wrapped in a blanket and Hikaru can practically feel the heat rolling off him.

“Hi, thanks for coming,” says Kaoru, attempting a smile and opening the door wider.

“You say that like I wouldn't have come.”

“Looking after sick people isn't exactly fun.”

Hikaru steps inside and Kaoru closes the door. Hikaru goes to the kitchen and unpacks the bag he's brought with him, Kaoru following behind.

“I got you fruit we can blend up into a smoothie – Haruhi talked me through how to do it so I should be able to figure it out,” says Hikaru. “And I went to that place you like and got you soup – you can re-heat it later if you need to because I know you said you were throwing up a lot – and some bread too.”

Kaoru nods and perches on a stool by the counter. “Thanks.”

“And I picked up some medicine... I wasn't sure what you needed but I got painkillers and stuff,” says Hikaru. “And finally I got you commoners tea and a video game so you at least have something to do while you're stuck here.”

“Thank y–” Kaoru's words are cut short by a crude noise in his throat before he dashes away into the downstairs bathroom, slamming the door shut behind him. Hikaru hears violent retching, wet sounds and feels a sympathetic twinge in his belly as he puts things away and starts throwing fruit into the blender.

He jumps when he hears a buzz on the granite countertop and looks over to see Kaoru's phone lit up with a message from Kyouya. Against his better judgement, Hikaru gives into his dark curiosity and looks at the message:

'My flight leaves later tonight if you still want to see me this evening.'

An idea, fully-formed, comes to Hikaru. He lifts his head to hear Kaoru still retching and then grabs the phone, sending back a message:

'Yeah I'd like that, see you at 6?'

He waits, dreading the sound of the toilet flushing and bathroom door opening, but then another message appears:

'I look forward to it.'

Hikaru deletes the last three messages in the conversation. It seems opportunity has knocked, and he's anxious to answer the door.

 


	6. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact, this chapter is the original prompt Holly gave me for this whole fic. The rest of the fic came about because I needed to explain what happened and how.

Hikaru stays with Kaoru for much of the rest of the day, making him food and trying to help take his mind off things. They play video games and watch films, and by the time Hikaru leaves Kaoru at five o'clock he's looking much better than in the morning. His temperature has come down and he's dozing off in bed when Hikaru slips on his shoes. He remembers to quickly check Kaoru's address book for where Kyouya lives. He feels a sharp twinge of guilt as he closes the front door behind him, but it soon settles into steely resolve again at the thought of what he needs to do.

In the car, he takes a deep breath and exhales before he swivels the rear-view mirror so he can see himself. He clumsily rearranges his hair so that it's parted on the left, his bangs falling over his right eye as he runs his fingers through it. His heart is hammering and his hands are shaking at the idea of what's to come but he knows he has to end it somehow. Done with his hair, he starts the car and drives over to Kyouya's. The journey seems to take both forever and no time at all – thoughts run through his head faster than the car, back and forth through red and white and neon lights.

_This is a terrible idea._

_Maybe but it's the only way._

_Man, Kaoru's going to be pissed..._

_What do I even say? 'Oh hey Kyouya it's Kaoru, we should break up'?_

_Ugh, the fact that they even have to 'break up'..._

_Look, focus, we need to figure out what we're going to say..._

Hikaru starts muttering to himself through three red lights, rehearsing little bits of speech that don't even make sense because he's bouncing each off a hypothetical, imaginary Kyouya. Soon, however, he pulls up outside the house and turns off the engine. Anticipation swirls around in his belly and he has to tell himself to get out of the car and go to the door.

_Just tell him. 'Hey, I'm not sure this is going all that great, I don't think we should see each other any more.'_

He rings the doorbell and waits in the glare of the porch light, shivering a little with the cold. Soon he hears footsteps and the door opens, revealing Kyouya looking down at him. There's a flash of something indescribable across his face but then it's gone, replaced with a smile.

“Kaoru,” he says. “Good evening.”

Hikaru hesitates a little on his words, but then says, “Er, hey...”

“Come on in.” Kyouya steps aside and Hikaru steps over the threshold.

“So I wa–” Hikaru's words are cut off by Kyouya's lips pressing into his in a kiss. He steps back, breaking the kiss, mouth hanging open, and Kyouya raises an eyebrow at him.

“Are you alright?” he asks.

Hikaru clears his throat. He should have expected that. “Oh, yeah, I was just a bit surprised is all, you, uh... didn't give me much warning on that one...” He tries a small laugh and then quietly gulps as Kyouya draws closer to him again.

“Well then, here's your warning...”

He runs a gentle finger over Hikaru's bottom lip and tilts his chin up to kiss him again. Hikaru's golden eyes drift shut inadvertently and he's unsurprised to find that Kyouya is a pretty good kisser – there has to be some reason why Kaoru has stayed with him as long as a year (and Hikaru doesn't like to think it's because of Kyouya's winning personality). He responds to the kiss without thinking, and finds his mouth opening to let Kyouya's tongue touch his own. He thinks dimly that he's not used to having to lean up to kiss because Haruhi is shorter than him.

_Haruhi._

The thought of her makes Hikaru gasp and pull away again at the same time as Kyouya's hand comes down to cup one cheek of his butt. Kyouya chuckles and squeezes, his lips moving down behind Hikaru's ear and pressing kisses to his neck. Hikaru shivers and tilts his head, a horrible stirring in his lower belly.

“Uhh... Kyouya...” he stammers.

“Mmmm...” Kyouya reaches the edge of Hikaru's collar and his free hand pulls it aside to lick at his collarbone.

“Can we... talk... please?” Hikaru's trying very hard to ignore the fluttery feeling in his head.

Kyouya stops and pulls away and his hand goes into his pocket, pulling out a thin length of cloth which he runs between his fingers. “I've been looking forward to this all day.”

Hikaru gulps. “I just wanted to say, I...”

One of Kyouya's fingers comes to his lips, stopping his words.

“We can talk later,” he says. “Right now, I want you...”

He pulls the material taut between his hands and ties it over Hikaru's eyes. Hikaru feels his heart beating harder and faster and his other senses flare up in the absence of his sight.

“Kyouya can w–”

“Shh,” Kyouya's voice is right by his face and then he feels teeth grazing over his earlobe.

Hikaru feels Kyouya unbuttoning his coat and taking it off him, and he realises he can't back down now. Kyouya's long fingers run up under his jumper and pull it off him, tossing it away and immediately going to his shirt buttons.

“If you refuse to be quiet,” Kyouya quietly growls, “I'll have to punish you. And you wouldn't want that, would you?”

“N-no-ow!”

Hikaru's words are cut off when he feels Kyouya's nails rake across his chest.

“What did I tell you about being quiet?”

Something in his tone keeps Hikaru from saying anything and he hears Kyouya give a little chuckle.

“Good.”

He feels his shirt slipped off his shoulders and Kyouya's hands trailing up and down his torso. He gasps and cries out when he feels a bite to his shoulder.

“Ow! What the hell?”

“Hmm... you're still not very good at staying quiet... Maybe you need some help...”

Hikaru feels a hand on his face, pressing his cheeks so that his mouth opens and then a wad of cloth is pressed in between his lips and teeth so that he can't make any sound beyond grunts. One of Kyouya's hands goes to Hikaru's back, the other laces into the back of his hair and then he finds himself being pushed through the house, presumably to Kyouya's bedroom... At least he thinks so until he hears a door get unlocked and opened.

_Does Kyouya sleep on the ground floor? Weirdo..._

He is pushed into the room and hears the door close behind him. Under his feet he feels thick carpet and the dulled quality of sound in the room suggests that the walls are covered in some kind of fabric too.

_What the fuck..._

He feels Kyouya come up behind him and then fingernails scraping down his back. He hisses around the gag (which results in him sucking on the fabric) and feels another stirring in his groin.

_Oh god what am I doing..._

Kyouya's hands come round to his front and his belt buckle. Hikaru exhales hard through his nose as the metal clinks and his belt is pulled open, along with his trousers. Soon his trousers and boxers are pulled down to his ankles and he feels a strange rush at the feeling of being bared to Kyouya without being able to see him.

_Is this what it is for Kaoru?_

“Shoes off.”

Hikaru slowly uses his toes to manoeuvre his shoes and step out of them, picking up his feet so he can ease off his socks too.

“Good...”

He feels something unknown brush over his chest and then down and over his tummy, and he realises with horror that he wants Kyouya to touch his cock. He bites on the wad of cloth in his mouth and tries not to think about Haruhi or Kaoru because if he does his hands start to shake and he can't show any sign of weakness right now when he's already blindfolded and gagged.

So he clenches his fists and takes in a deep breath as whatever it is Kyouya's got drags slowly over his belly and down his thigh, round to the back as he hears Kyouya walk around him. The feeling moves up his bottom and his back and then leaves him entirely. There's a moment of stillness where he wonders what's going on until he feels a sharp snap on his skin.

“Ugh!” His surprise comes muffled through the gag and he realises Kyouya's holding some kind of rod. He also immediately realises where Kaoru's bruises came from as Kyouya hits him again.

Hikaru's eyes screw shut against each dart of pain and his nails are digging hard into his palms. At the same time, the anticipation between each one becomes strangely exciting for him. He feels the excitement curl inside him and trembles, less out of pain or fear and more with a rush of... something – he's not sure what he's feeling but he decides, in the darkness behind the blindfold that there's nothing he can do but follow Kyouya's lead.

Eventually he hears – with just a little hint of regret – Kyouya drop the rod and then his voice:

“Now _Kaoru_...”

The sound of his brother's name fills Kyouya's mouth, rolls off his tongue and between his lips as he speaks it, and sends another shiver through Hikaru.

_Oh god I am a special kind of sick._

“... I want to show you something new I got. I think you'll like it very much.”

Hikaru feels a hand – a gentler touch than before – at the small of his back as he is nudged forwards, the sound of his bare feet muffled in the thickness of the carpet. Kyouya's other hand steers him by the elbow, putting him at an angle to what he was before and then stopping him.

“This part may be tricky but it will be worth it.”

He feels Kyouya's hands at one of his knees, lifting it so that it bends, and then a small padded leather platform under it when he puts it down again.

“There's another one for your other knee...”

Slowly, Hikaru is pulled into place and eventually finds himself on all fours, strapped to some kind of purpose-built bench, padded leather under both shins, his forearms and his chest. He tries instinctively to pull on his restraints – just a little – but they hold him fast, and feels himself flush when Kyouya walks behind him. Kyouya's hands come down his back to his bottom, running over his skin and spreading his cheeks apart. He exhales and thinks he hears Kyouya give a quiet chuckle.

A weird squelching noise fills the air and Hikaru feels something cold dribbling down the cleft of his bottom, followed by Kyouya's fingers trailing down, stroking and rubbing gently before one of his fingers slips inside. Hikaru tries to stifle a squeak of surprise and clenches his fists at the feeling of intrusion. Kyouya's finger pushes in and out of him, letting Hikaru acclimatise himself to the feeling before a second finger is added (along with more lube). Kyouya keeps pushing in and out with his fingers, slow and deliberate as he stretches the tight ring of muscle wider and spreading the lube, and Hikaru does his best to welcome the feeling and breathe through it.

“Everything okay, Kaoru?”

Hikaru blushes again at the mention of Kaoru's name, suddenly acutely aware of being in his brother's place. To Kaoru, this is normal, this is what he enjoys. Along with the blush, Hikaru feels the tension in him coil tighter and a quiet moan pushes out through the gag before he realises what's happened. Kyouya makes a satisfied noise and Hikaru hears him squeeze out more lube as his fingers finally leave him.

Kyouya's cock presses into him and Hikaru breathes out slowly, doing his best to relax his muscles and allow it – he can't afford raise suspicion now. With the prep (and, he suspects, some numbing qualities from the lube) he finds it easier than he necessarily would have anticipated. Kyouya pushes forward slowly, until he can't any more, and Hikaru feels him pause, apparently giving him time to get used to it. Hikaru waits, holding them both there for a while, before he experimentally clenches his muscles, squeezing around Kyouya's cock, and earns a quiet hiss. Kyouya's hands move from the join between Hikaru's tummy and pelvis to his hips and he draws back slightly before pushing forward again, not fast but not as slow as before. Hikaru gasps and nearly inhales the wad of cloth in his mouth.

“Feeling sensitive today Kaoru?”

Hikaru shivers at the name once again and lets out another moan. He hears an answering chuckle from Kyouya and then that same drawing back and push forward. The friction feels better now, and Hikaru groans around the gag as Kyouya starts to build up a steady rhythm that slowly increases in tempo and intensity. Hikaru finds himself egging Kyouya on with grunts and moans, the material in his mouth growing soggy with saliva and his body aching with a multitude of conflicts.

Kyouya starts to thrust more insistently, gripping onto Hikaru's hips for greater control and anchorage. Hikaru cries out louder when he feels Kyouya hit something that gives him an intense sting of pleasure that almost hurts. He hopes fleetingly that Kyouya might stop for a moment to let him take it in, but no such luck: Kyouya keeps going, unrelenting, and Hikaru thinks people on the other side of town must be able to hear him despite the gag.

At some point he feels Kyouya's hand crawl down his hip to his cock and start to stroke it, dragging the sensitive skin up and down in time with his thrusts. Hikaru trembles, knees shaking on the padded leather and against the restraints, and chokes down a sob he didn't realise he was holding onto until now. His moans are interspersed with whimpers as Kyouya drags him closer to the edge.

“Kaoru...”

Hikaru clenches his fists harder.

“Come for me, Kaoru.”

The feeling in Hikaru breaks and he cries out again, eyes screwed shut behind the blindfold as he comes hard. He feels Kyouya thrust a couple more times and then a weird, warm feeling as he comes too. They both stay there for a moment, panting, until Hikaru feels Kyouya's hands move and he pulls out. He can feel a dribble in his backside, the feeling strange and foreign, and then a warm, damp cloth cleaning him up. Unable to go anywhere, he sighs and flops on the bench and lets Kyouya continue sorting things out.

Soon the clinking sound of buckles being undone fills the air and he feels Kyouya by his side, opening the restraints again. One of Kyouya's hands comes to the back of his head to undo the blindfold and Hikaru blinks, eyes adjusting to the light. He appears to be in some kind of purpose-built room – the fabric-covered walls are covered with hooks that hold numerous whips, rods and cuffs – as well as the bench he was strapped to Hikaru sees a large wooden X propped up against one wall and a few other things whose function he can only guess.

Kyouya gently pulls the wad of cloth out of his mouth and takes it away and Hikaru works his jaw as he slowly climbs off the bench. He's surveying the black leather and polished wood of it when Kyouya comes up behind him and pulls him into an embrace.

“You were amazing,” he murmurs into Hikaru's ear.

“Err...” He's not sure what to say to that – what _Kaoru_ would say to that. “So were you?”

Kyouya turns him around and Hikaru wonders briefly if Kyouya took _any_ of his clothes off before Kyouya kisses him, tongue flicking at the corners of Hikaru's lips. Eventually, Kyouya pulls away again.

“I should get ready for my flight,” he says. “Thank you for coming to see me.”

“Okay...” Hikaru bends down and pulls on his trousers and underwear, slipping on his shoes, before following Kyouya back down the hallway to where the rest of his clothes lie abandoned near the front door. Once he's dressed he opens the front door and walks out. He turns back to face Kyouya, and finds a strange expression on his face.

“See you in a few weeks,” Hikaru says, trying to sound cheerful, and an unnerving smile creeps onto Kyouya's face.

“Yes, see you later,” says Kyouya as he closes the door. “I'm glad we got to spend this time together, _Hikaru_.”

The last glimpse Hikaru has of Kyouya is of his smirking face before the door closes and he is standing alone in the cold.

 


	7. Chapter 6

Hikaru stands still outside Kyouya's front door, a feeling of numbness in his fingers.

_He knew. He knew it was me..._

He looks round as someone drives past and realises how late it's become, also realising that it's started to rain. He shivers and glances back at the door before dashing to his car and getting in. His racing thoughts are accompanied with the sound of the raindrops on the roof.

“How long did he know?” he whispers to himself, staring at Kyouya's front door.

He makes no move to start the car, not trusting his shaking hands or churning stomach to take him anywhere. Instead he sits utterly still, staring blankly at the front door of Kyouya's house, for several long minutes, until he sees another car, sleek black, pull up and the driver step out, ringing the doorbell. The door opens and Kyouya emerges, ducking under the umbrella the man holds out for him so that he can get into the back seat without getting wet.

The driver loads the cases into the car and soon pulls away, passing by Hikaru in his own car. Hikaru can't see through the tinted windows that Kyouya sits behind but he can almost feel his gaze on him through the glass. He feels bile rise in his throat as the car continues to drive away and he can only see it in his rear-view mirror. In an instant he makes his decision, hands clenching on the steering wheel as he turns the key in the ignition. He turns his car around, grabbing his seatbelt and strapping himself in and he leaves Kyouya's driveway in pursuit of the other vehicle.

He chases the car down through the streets in the now-heavy rain, desperately trying not to lose sight of it in the traffic. He glances at his dashboard clock – _oh fuck it's late, how long was I strapped to that thing?_ – and pushes forward through a not-quite-red light to a chorus of horns. He knows Haneda Airport isn't much further and starts thinking what he's going to say when he catches up to Kyouya, beyond incoherent spluttering.

He can still feel the rawness in his backside from earlier, and a dribbling sensation he doesn't want to think about too much because thinking of it makes him feel sick and gives him a weird inscrutable _tingle_ in his thighs. He can feel his heartbeat in his throat and he knows when he stops driving his hands are going to be trembling.

_What the hell do I say to him? Do I need to say anything to him? I could just leave it... But he's going, what if he's away for a while? Also... I didn't break up with him. Kaoru's still with him. I have to do something about it. Oh god my butt feels so weird, what the hell is that?_

Outside the airport he parks his car a few spaces down from Kyouya's in the multi-storey car park and practically leaps from it.

“Kyouya!” he yells as Kyouya emerges from his own car.

Kyouya turns to look at him, expression unreadable and serene. “Yes?”

“I... I need to talk to you!” Hikaru knows his voice is shaky and wobbly but he needs to get the words out before he loses his nerve.

Kyouya glances at his watch and then gestures to the driver to take his case and get him checked in. Once the man has disappeared into the elevator, he looks back at Hikaru. “I have some time now.”

“Uhh...” _Come on, Hikaru, don't flake out._ “Wha... What... Why... How...?”

Kyouya smirks lazily. “It seems I rendered you speechless, _Kaoru_.”

“Stop that!” Hikaru shouts. “What the hell was that? How did you know it was me?”

“You're not as good an actor as you were in high school, Hikaru,” says Kyouya. “I've been sleeping with your brother for a little over a year – did you really think I wouldn't realise it was you? Honestly I'm surprised you didn't try this earlier.”

Hikaru's face is burning with shame and anger. “So you knew it was me the whole time and you still... you... you still...”

“ _Fucked_ you?” puts in Kyouya.

Hikaru's throat closes around his voice and he nods instead.

Kyouya shrugs. “I was curious to see how far you would be willing to take it,” he says. “And to see if you both make the same sounds when you're getting fucked.”

Hikaru clenches his fists, feeling his entire body flushing.

“Relax,” says Kyouya serenely. “I won't tell Kaoru or Haruhi – as far as I'm concerned neither of them ever need to know.”

Hikaru steels himself, breathing hard. “I want you to break up with him.”

Kyouya laughs, his calm demeanour changing for the first time. “You know, I was thinking about it. My interest in your brother has been waning somewhat... but now I don't think I will. You've just made this far more interesting.”

Hikaru feels his shoulders sag. “What?”

Kyouya looks at his watch. “As enlightening as this conversation has been for you,” he says evenly, “I'm going to have to call it to an end and go catch my flight.” He nods to Hikaru, looking genial. “See you soon Hikaru.”

He turns away and walks to the elevator – Hikaru finds himself rooted to the spot until the doors close on Kyouya's still-smirking face. He's gasping for breath, sheer panic flooding him. His shaking hands come to his head, apparently trying to hold his own mind together.

_Oh god what have I done?_

He doubles up, an inadvertent cry leaving him, and then he's just shouting to himself in an empty car park. In a sudden fit of movement, he whips around and slams his fist into a concrete pillar, shouting more with the terrible pain in his now-damaged knuckles. He collapses to the ground, clutching his hand to his chest and feeling tears squeezing out of the corners of his eyes.

 

***

 

Hikaru gets home late that night. He tries his best to unlock and open the front door quietly so as not to wake Haruhi (no easy feat when one of his hands is bandaged up into a round bundle), but when he gets inside and sees the light on in the living room he knows that she's been waiting up for him. He curses silently in his head – he was hoping not to have to face her tonight after what he's done... and then hates himself more for being such a coward.

“Hey,” he says as he walks through to find her sitting on the sofa looking over a fat case file. “What are you still doing up? It's nearly midnight.”

She looks up at him, glasses catching the light briefly in an almost Kyouya-esque fashion as she tilts her head. “I wasn't sure when you'd be back – I was going to call it a night about an hour ago but then I got stuck into this...” She gestures to the file on her lap.

“Okay...” There's a feeling in Hikaru's throat like a lump of cotton wool and he's not sure what else to say. He sees Haruhi's gaze go to his hand.

“Hikaru, what did you do?” she gasps, getting up from her place on the sofa and coming to his side.

“I fell over,” he says simply – the same excuse he gave at the hospital. “Tried to catch myself with my fist.”

“Ouch,” says Haruhi, her face pained. “What did you do to it?”

“Fractured one of the metacarpals – the doctor said it's called a 'boxer's fracture' – along with bruising and some laceration,” Hikaru explains. “He said the hand was going to be kinda shitty for a while.”

Haruhi looks up at him with her huge brown eyes, then puts her arms around his waist in a hug. “That sounds really painful.”

“It was...” Hikaru holds her too and lets the end of the sentence hang and drift, leaving the two of them in silence.

“How's Kaoru?” she finally asks.

“Oh, he's okay...” The question throws Hikaru somewhat: the day spent with Kaoru feels like forever ago. “I made him that soup you gave me the recipe for.”

“Did he like it?”

“I think so.”

Something in his tone seems to make Haruhi pull away. “Are you okay?”

“Huh?”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, why?”

“You seem kind of...” Haruhi pauses, her eyes on him, and he feels a sick, burning sensation in his throat again. “Distant I guess?”

Hikaru pulls her into another hug, thinking quickly. “Sorry, I think the painkillers made me kind of dozy – the doctor said that might happen. They said I'd be okay to drive though.”

It's half true – he's feeling sleepy but the doctor said nothing about that being an effect of the painkillers.

“I see,” she says as they break apart again. “Shall we go to bed then?”

They head upstairs, Hikaru breathing a sigh of relief because she seems to believe what he's said and now he can just sleep for a while. When they're getting undressed for bed, however, he hears her hiss.

“Hikaru, what did you do?”

He turns, worrying that somehow – somehow – she has figured it all out. Her eyes are fixed on his torso and as he looks down he sees the bruises Kyouya gave him littering his pale skin.

“From when I fell,” he says quickly, looking away and pulling on a T shirt. “Sorry, I didn't realise they were that bad. The hand sort of made me forget about them.” Again, this is all half-true and he glances back at Haruhi to gauge her reaction.

She looks at him with some confusion in her face. “Hell of a fall,” she says. “Was it down some stairs or something?”

Hikaru nods, seizing the excuse and running with it. “Yeah concrete stairs in a car park,” he says. “I was going to go get some food on the way home but then I fell and I never went to get it.”

“Why didn't you just eat with Kaoru?” she asks.

Hikaru looks sheepish, finally not needing to lie to her. “Uhh... I made enough for him, but only him. I forgot to put the lid on the blender.”

Haruhi laughs, coming to stand by his side. “That sounds about right.”

She leans up to kiss him and Hikaru breathes a mental sigh of relief.

_I am literally the worst._

 


	8. Chapter 7

The bruises on Hikaru's body fade in time, his hand slowly heals, and Haruhi asks no more questions about either. Kaoru asks him about it – _obviously_ Kaoru asks him about it – and he gives him the same excuse about falling down the stairs in the car park. Kaoru takes over doing writing and drawing when they work on designs together and Hikaru focuses on talking to people in meetings and potential buyers until his hand is better.

He does everything he can to forget about the night with Kyouya. The feeling in his muscles after is strange, like when he goes swimming and then later in bed that same resistance pushes against his legs even though he is lying still. Something in him aches at the memory and he's not sure _how_.

One morning in the new year, after his hand feels almost normal again, Hikaru arrives at the office he shares with Kaoru to find his brother beaming. After greeting him, he takes his seat and turns on his computer.

“What's got you so happy?” he asks as he checks through his emails.

Kaoru grins from the other desk. “Kyouya's back in Tokyo tonight.”

Hikaru's stomach contracts – fortunately his breakfast stays in him. “Oh.”

“I'm going to see him,” Kaoru continues.

“Cool...” Hikaru tries to concentrate on an email from a supplier.

“He actually invited you and Haruhi for dinner too,” says Kaoru, his voice hesitant and becoming quieter, tentative in the face of Hikaru's stony attitude.

Hikaru clicks on another email, not actually reading this one either. “When?”

“He said Friday evening.”

Hikaru lets out a relieved sigh. “Man, I'm sorry, we're actually out that evening.”

“Ah okay, never mind then.”

Kaoru turns away and behind his back, Hikaru flashes a brief grin at his computer screen. Thank god for date nights.

 

***

 

When Hikaru gets home that evening, he finds Haruhi hanging up the phone.

“Hey,” he greets her, flopping onto the sofa beside her and kissing her.

When they break apart again, Haruhi says, “I was just talking to Kaoru.”

Hikaru feels an icy lump in his stomach, though he's not sure why yet. “Yeah?”

“Yeah he said he'd spoken to Kyouya and they invited us for dinner.”

Hikaru sighs. “Yeah he mentioned it to me too, I told them we were busy though.”

Haruhi frowns. “No we're not, I said that would be fine.”

“But we're going out aren't we?”

“Yeah, on Friday,” said Haruhi. “Kaoru said Saturday.”

“Oh right...” Hikaru feels a wave of nausea and forces himself to swallow and stay on the sofa. Kaoru never mentioned a different day earlier – Hikaru suspects that he went to Haruhi instead to avoid his brother immediately shutting him down with actual fake excuses.“So... that's at Kyouya's place right? I don't know where it is...”

“I'll get the address,” she says. She links her fingers into his and leans into his chest, head coming to rest on his shoulder. “You okay?”

Hikaru tries to keep his voice level as he replies, “Yeah, why?”

“Well I know you said you're doing better with the whole Kyouya thing but you still get kinda... weird sometimes when it gets mentioned,” she says.

Hikaru gulps and mumbles, “I don't know. I guess I'm still just protective of Kaoru.”

Haruhi squeezes his hand. “Don't be. He's an adult and it's been over a year.”

“I know.”

“Just... you've been a little distant since before Christmas, I was wondering if there was something else. Kyouya was away then.”

Hikaru looks down and meets Haruhi's big brown eyes and feels something dark tugging on the edge of his thoughts. With no warning, he pulls her to him in a tight hug and feels a sting in his eyes as her arms wrap around him.

“Hey, it's okay, I'm just concerned,” she murmurs into his ear, voice warm like coffee.

Hikaru nods and feels the lump in his throat break. “I'm sorry,” he whispers.

“What for?”

“For everything. I don't deserve you.”

“Oh shush,” she says. “I love you. If you can't talk about whatever's bothering you right now then that's okay, but please tell me if you need me to do anything.”

“I love you...” It's all he can think to say, other than repetitions of 'I don't deserve you' and 'I'm the worst person in the world'. She kisses him behind the ear and pulls him closer. Hikaru resolves never to let himself become as much of a disappointment to his wife again.

 

***

 

On Saturday evening, Hikaru can feel his heart hammering relentlessly under his shirt and silk tie, and his golden eyes are underlined with greyish-purple circles – he's found himself waking constantly with nightmares where everywhere he turns he finds himself trapped behind thick iron chains or weird, oil-black shadows. Several times today he's thought about faking sickness or a last-minute work thing, and at one point he debates throwing himself down the stairs. He can't stop worrying that Kyouya will say something or that he won't need to and Haruhi and Kaoru will figure it out.

In the entrance hall at Kyouya's, a servant takes their coats and Hikaru gulps – last time he was here he was mostly blindfolded and didn't really see the high, airy ceilings and clean, neutral interior design, but the place smells the same and it gives him an uncomfortable sensation in his stomach. He doesn't have much time to think though before Kyouya appears with a gracious smile. At the sight of him, Hikaru almost bolts then and there, but instead digs his fingernails into his palm.

“Good evening, friends,” Kyouya greets them, bowing to them both. Hikaru bows back automatically and distantly hears Haruhi saying something about how nice Kyouya's home is and thank you for inviting them. Kyouya seems entirely relaxed. The sight makes Hikaru's stomach turn – why should Kyouya get to be so fucking cheerful when Hikaru feels so _awful_? He bites his tongue and follows Haruhi and Kyouya through to the dining room, where Kaoru is sitting at the table with a bright smile. As he takes his seat he realises he's been seated opposite Kyouya.

He shudders as surreptitiously as he can. This evening is going to be long and sucky.

 

***

 

Hikaru excuses himself between the main course and dessert to disappear to the bathroom, taking far longer than is necessary to wash his hands and dry them and examine the various things in the bathroom (not much – it seems Kyouya's minimal taste extends to not keeping much in his spare bathrooms). Hikaru avoids his reflection in the gold-gilted mirror – he can feel how he looks: his brows furrowed over his eyes, the angry set of his mouth and the unhappy flush on his face.

The evening so far has been predictably horrible. Between worrying constantly about meeting Kyouya's eye and raising any suspicion from Haruhi and Kaoru and the churning feeling in his stomach he gets whenever he sees how perfectly serene Kyouya is, Hikaru feels utterly sick and hot with anger. He's trying to keep up a semblance of conversation on his side because he worries that a lack of words will seem suspicious, but every so often he stops himself talking too much, afraid of suddenly blurting out something awful. He splashes water on his face and tugs on his top button and tie, tries to tell himself that he needs to pull himself together.

Once he feels a degree more settled, he unlocks the door and opens it... only to come face to face with Kyouya.

“Hikaru,” says Kyouya, a smile playing about his mouth. “Are you feeling okay?”

Hikaru scowls. “You know I'm not.”

“Whyever wouldn't you feel perfectly content?” asks Kyouya. “You're spending an evening with friends.”

“I'm spending an evening with my brother, my wife and _you_.”

“You think of me that differently Hikaru?” asks Kyouya, apparently flattered.

“Yes,” says Hikaru flatly. “You made me do things to hurt them.”

“I _made_ you?”

“I never said yes to... you.” Hikaru can feel himself flushing at the words, unable to really finish the sentence or even the thought. “You didn't even ask.”

Kyouya smirks. “You didn't say 'no' either.”

Hikaru clenches his fists. “That's not how it works and you know it.”

Kyouya raises an eyebrow at him. “Perhaps, but you seem to be overlooking something.”

“What?”

“Which one of us dressed as the lover of the other and basically presented himself?”

“I onl–”

“Yes I know, you 'only' did it to orchestrate a break-up, but really Hikaru, you could have tried to fight me off harder.”

Hikaru can't find any words to say in response. Yes, he probably could have tried harder to get out of the situation. There's a gnawing in his stomach and he can feel his hands shaking as another smirk crosses Kyouya's face.

“You could have probably stood to enjoy yourself less too.”

Hikaru glares at him, quickly retorting, “I didn't enjoy it.”

Kyouya laughs and Hikaru realises how close he's standing. Was he standing that close to begin with? “So you were moaning in pleasure because you _hated_ it?”

The low, sultry quality in Kyouya's voice in such close proximity makes Hikaru's insides roil. He looks away and tries not to think about the other times he's heard that particular tone from Kyouya.

“If you're worried about me telling them I'm not going to,” says Kyouya, still standing practically on top of him.

Hikaru looks up at him. “What?”

Kyouya's mouth slants into a weird half-smirk. “I wasn't planning on saying anything. It's not like it's important, after all.”

Hikaru gapes at him. “Of course it's important!”

“So you think we should tell them then?”

“No! But not because it's not important!” Hikaru realises how high his voice has become and lowers it back down into a growl. “Where the fuck do you get off being so damn happy anyway?! You're fucking _crazy_!”

“Well that's not a nice thing to call your brother.”

“Oh my god,” Hikaru clenches his fists to keep from punching Kyouya or the doorframe. “What the hell is wrong with you?!”

Before Kyouya can answer (or more likely not answer and mock Hikaru some more) they both hear a quiet cough and turn to see Kaoru approaching around the corner. Hikaru leaps away from Kyouya, accidentally slamming into the bathroom doorframe.

“You guys okay?” asks Kaoru, looking between Kyouya's cool expression and Hikaru's angry flush, apparently searching for something.

“Absolutely fine, Kaoru,” Kyouya goes to stand by Kaoru and snakes an arm around his waist. “Hikaru was simply a little lost – he doesn't know this place as well as you after all – and I was aiding him.”

Kyouya pulls Kaoru to him and into a deep kiss. Kaoru hesitates briefly but then brings his arms up and around Kyouya's neck, reciprocating the kiss enthusiastically. Hikaru gulps and looks away from the sight, biting his tongue on a protest because, really, he's not in a position to protest right now. Kyouya says he won't tell but he also knows Hikaru wants their secret kept from Kaoru and Haruhi. The possibility of Kyouya telling Kaoru hangs like an executioner's axe over Hikaru's head. He slinks away, leaving Kyouya and Kaoru in the corridor and going to seek out Haruhi.

 

***

 

Back at home, Hikaru collapses into a heap on the sofa and tugs his tie loose around his neck as Haruhi slips off her heels.

“I'm not sure those heels were comfortable even though we were sitting most of the evening,” she says. “Think I need to break them in more.”

“Sorry,” says Hikaru flatly. “I thought they'd be nice.”

“It's okay...” He can feel Haruhi staring at him before she comes to sit next to him on the sofa. “Are you okay Hikaru?”

Hikaru nods quickly. “Yeah I'm fine, just really tired.”

Haruhi shifts to curl up next to Hikaru and put her head on his shoulder. “Well we're home now so we can relax.”

Hikaru nods again and lets himself sink further into the cushions. Haruhi follows suit, tucking herself into his side. One of her hands finds its way to Hikaru's chest and strokes gentle circles through his shirt.

“Hey, Hikaru...”

Hikaru turns his head and his lips meet hers – her kiss is probing, searching, and Hikaru knows his is lacklustre in response. They break apart and he can feel her eyes on him.

“Are you sure you're okay, Hikaru?”

“Yeah. Like I said, just tired.” The response is automatic and he knows she can tell when she sighs.

“Look, I'm sorry you didn't enjoy this evening,” she says. “Though you seemed to be dealing with Kyouya better than before.”

“Yeah?”

“You were more talkative than usual.”

He sighs in relief and allows himself a small smile of victory. At least someone appreciated his inane chattering tonight. “I wasn't sure you'd noticed.”

Haruhi shrugs. “It made a nice change from complete silence.”

Hikaru looks at her, taking in the lovely curve of her jaw and the warmth in her eyes, before pulling her into a close hug. “I'm trying,” he whispers.

“I know,” she says back, fingers tracing comforting circles into the backs of his shoulders.

 

***

 

“Now, _Kaoru_ , I think you should see how you look...”

Kaoru gulps and feels the blindfold over his eyes pulled away. He blinks slowly, eyes snapping open fully when he sees that Kyouya has set up a large mirror at an angle and he can see himself – _all of himself_ – in it. He recognised the feeling of the spanking bench as soon as Kyouya started strapping him to it – he noticed a page open on Kyouya's laptop a few months ago with a variety of the things displayed so he probably cheated a bit but oh well, him knowing made the process of getting on it much easier – but he wasn't expecting the addition of the mirror. He gapes at the sight of his pale skin against the dark, polished wood and black leather and catches Kyouya's gaze in the reflection. Kaoru sees a flash of something unknown in it, soon replaced with a satisfaction and hunger that makes his spine tingle.

He flexes and sees the straps tighten on his upper arms and thighs, the sight making arousal coil in his stomach as Kyouya surveys the familiar array of riding crops and whips hung up on the wall...

 


	9. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today on 'why Hikaru is not allowed to make decisions'...

The next few weeks go by in a blur for Hikaru. He and Kaoru spend their time putting together a Valentine's Day-themed catwalk show in Ueno Park which involves hiring people to decorate the trees with streamers and heart-shaped decorations, getting a custom catwalk installed for the day and preparing almost twenty models, not all of whom speak the same languages. The two of them spend almost all their free time in the office in the last few days leading up to the show, going over last-minute details for each of the outfits – Hikaru barely sees Haruhi and he knows Kaoru can't be seeing much of Kyouya either (something he can't help but feel a _hint_ of satisfied pleasure about).

On the day of the show, Hikaru and Kaoru spend much of their day in the park, ensuring that the place is ready for them and side-eyeing the rolling grey clouds in the sky. Hikaru throws himself into the work, grateful for the distraction; even when the tree decorations nearly blow away and some of the models turn up late, he doesn't care. The stress of the day is better than the stress of anything else in his life.

That is, until the show ends.

After he and Kaoru have closed the show and are giving instructions to their show director, Hikaru feels a buzz in his pocket. Pulling out his phone and glancing at the screen, he has to keep himself from crying out in alarm as he sees Kyouya's name. He opens the message (against his better judgement) and reads: 'Show was great. Come to my house later.'

Aware of all the people around him, he tries to hide any real reaction and keep his face blank. He types back a quick response: 'Why should I?'

Shortly after, a new message appears: 'I have an offer to make.'

Hikaru presses his lips together, conflicted.

“Hikaru?”

“Huh?” Hikaru looks up from his phone to see the director and Kaoru both staring at him.

“What do you think?” asks the director

Hikaru stands there sheepish. “Uhh... I'm not sure?”

The director nods. “Well we can discuss it next week when your mother returns from London.”

Hikaru relaxes a little and doesn't notice Kaoru peering at his phone screen.

 

***

 

As Hikaru pulls up outside Kyouya's house later that evening, he pulls out his phone and sends Haruhi a quick message:

Hey honey, I'm going to be a

little late back, gotta go to the office

and pick something up. xxx

He leaves the car and goes to ring the doorbell. The door opens quickly and soon he stands in Kyouya's hallway under the other man's gaze. He shifts uncomfortably – he thought he could deal with this better but now he's seriously questioning his decision.

“Good evening,” says Kyouya, something poisonous teasing in the tilt of his lips.

Hikaru tries hard not to break eye contact with him. “You said you had an 'offer to make'?”

Kyouya half-grins and starts to walk down the corridor, gesturing to Hikaru to follow him. “You're not even going to bother with niceties are you?”

Hikaru stares at Kyouya's back as they go into the living room. “No.”

Kyouya laughs and lounges on the sofa, gesturing to the other end where Hikaru hesitantly perches. He leans back into the leather contentedly and surveys Hikaru.

“Well I suppose if I can't engage you in polite conversation, I should get to it,” he says. “I have something to offer you that I think you may like.”

Hikaru sits in stony silence and stares at Kyouya.

Kyouya pushes his glasses up his nose, the light catching them briefly and slanting into Hikaru's vision before vanishing. “I'll break up with Kaoru.”

Hikaru feels his mouth drop open. “What?”

“I'm saying I'll break up with your brother,” repeats Kyouya.

Hikaru frowns in confusion. “You're actually offering to break up with him?”

“Yes.”

“Like... _really_ break up with him?”

“Yes.”

Hikaru stares at him dumbly for a long moment before his suspicious frown returns. “What's the catch?”

Kyouya laughs. “There's no catch.”

Hikaru glares again. “This is you – there's always a catch.”

“You really don't trust that I am offering you a plain and simple get-out clause?”

“Of course not.”

Kyouya laughs again.

“Stop laughing at me!” Hikaru can feel the blood going to his cheeks in an angry flush. He's not sure what he wants to _do_ right now but he knows he wants to wipe the smile right off Kyouya's smug face.

“Hikaru you really are too hot-headed,” grins Kyouya. “Here I am offering to do something nice for you and I'm getting yelled at in response.”

“Fuck you,” growls Hikaru, on the edge of his seat, body coiled and ready to spring.

Kyouya raises an eyebrow at him. “I believe we've already done that part, unless you're proposing another round.”

Hikaru clenches his fist. “You wish.”

Kyouya laughs yet again.

“I said, _stop fucking laughing at me_!”

Hikaru doesn't know what happens next. He knows that he lunges at Kyouya, his fist ready and willing to make contact with the other man's face... and then he finds himself on his back on the sofa and Kyouya's on top of him, entirely too close.

“What the hell are you doing?!”

Kyouya smirks. “Reminding you of what a nice time we had together.”

Hikaru shudders, recoiling, and weakly mumbles, “We didn't.”

“As I said before –” Kyouya pushes a knee into Hikaru's groin and gets a gasp in response – “I _distinctly_ remember you moaning for more.”

With Hikaru unable to say anything in response – the sudden change in position has thrown him completely – Kyouya takes the opportunity to claim his open lips in a savage kiss. Hikaru forgot (or, really, has been trying not to remember) how good a kisser Kyouya is. He melts into the sofa a little; his arms slacken and his fists unclench. For a second he's lost in the feeling of lips and tongue and the smell of Kyouya's cologne... until a lightbulb-flash goes off in his head and he suddenly bites down hard on Kyouya's invading tongue. Kyouya retreats a little and looks into Hikaru's eyes.

“I give you less credit than you deserve it seems,” he says.

Hikaru glares. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Kyouya's fingers drift down Hikaru's front and grasp at his tie. “I underestimated you. I didn't realise you could be quite so...” He seems to search for the answer in Hikaru's face, eyes raking over his features for a long moment. “... feisty.”

Hikaru scowls, trying to mask his shaking hands and voice and lips. “Fuck you.”

Another low chuckle pushes its way out of Kyouya's throat and Hikaru pushes him off the sofa, landing on top of him with a thud. He grabs Kyouya's arms and pins them to the floor, trying to put his weight behind the motion, his knees either side of Kyouya's waist. Kyouya looks up at him, still apparently amused by his actions.

“And what now, Hikaru?” he asks.

Hikaru doesn't know what overcomes him – maybe some desire to prove something stupid, maybe he just wants to try and gain the upper hand, but he leans down and crashes his lips into Kyouya's. They fight for dominance of the kiss, tongues pressing together and teeth scraping each other's lips. Hikaru unknowingly lets his grip on Kyouya's wrists slip just a little and Kyouya uses that and the lack of constraint on his legs to flip them over again. The motion causes Hikaru's head to clunk into the wooden floor and he gasps in surprise and pain, his head tilting back. Kyouya seizes the opportunity to bite Hikaru's exposed throat and Hikaru cries out. Kyouya pulls off Hikaru's tie and tosses it away. In response, Hikaru struggles and manages to push them both into the coffee table, knocking an orchid off it and onto the floor with a crash.

“I hope that was expensive,” he spits.

“A gift actually,” says Kyouya.

“Fuck.”

A grin flashes across Kyouya's face and he rips open Hikaru's shirt. Buttons scatter and Hikaru scowls up at Kyouya again.

“That _was_ expensive.”

“I know.”

“I hate you so much.”

“I know.”

Kyouya claims Hikaru's lips again and Hikaru growls low in his throat, biting Kyouya's lip as hard as he can, eliciting a strangled groan in response.

“It's interesting,” comments Kyouya as his hands descend down Hikaru's torso.

“What?”

“A partner who actually fights back. Your brother normally accepts his position as sub – and does it _well_ I might add – but I must admit I do enjoy this too.”

“Don't talk about my brother like that.” Hikaru grabs the front of Kyouya's shirt and pulls him down so they're nose to nose and Kyouya has to put his hands out to stop himself falling. “You make me sick.”

“You've got a funny way of showing it.”

“Shut up.”

“Make me.”

Hikaru covers Kyouya's mouth with his own once again. He wants to take away the smugness and the steely stoicism. He wants to force him to show his hand. He wants to see him vulnerable and exposed.

If he has to fuck that out of him, so be it.

He claws at Kyouya's collar and the fabric tears along the seam. He almost smiles but then Kyouya bites down on his lower lip and he makes a strangled noise instead. Kyouya tugs on his lip before letting go and making his way down Hikaru's neck and chest. Hikaru shivers, Kyouya's touch leaving blazing trails on his sensitive skin. He arches into Kyouya's hands as they descend and Kyouya runs his tongue down Hikaru's chest and to one of his nipples. He tongues it, making Hikaru groan, and then bites it.

“Ow!”

“Really?”

“Don't 'really' me, that hurt!”

Kyouya shrugs. “Well, Kaoru usually likes it, I thought maybe you might too.”

Hikaru shakes his head, eyes screwing shut. “Stop talking about him.”

“Why?”

“Because I said so.”

“You don't really seem to be in the position to back up those words.”

Hikaru tries to struggle again, but Kyouya holds him and his hands down and starts to bite along the edge of Hikaru's ribcage, leaving little pink marks in his wake. Hikaru shivers and breathes hard through his nose, trying to maintain some dignity as sweat beads on his forehead. He presses his lips together, suppressing a sigh, feels Kyouya undoing his belt. He whimpers – he really hopes quietly – when Kyouya pulls his trousers and underwear down. He outright groans when he feels Kyouya's mouth on his cock, tongue stroking and flicking around the head and one hand cupping Hikaru's balls. Hikaru twitches, hands gripping at the rug under him as Kyouya sucks hard.

“Fff... _Fuck_.”

He feels Kyouya's mouth change shape and looks down to see him smiling, apparently amused by Hikaru. As Hikaru watches, he closes his lips around Hikaru's cock once more, eyes flicking up to meet Hikaru's over his glasses as he gently sucks again. Hikaru's open lips tremble but he refuses to break the eye contact. He bites the inside of his cheek and fists the rug more as Kyouya tugs on his balls and takes him in deeper. His dark gaze slides away from Hikaru's golden eyes and Hikaru half-grins.

_Ha, beat you, sucker._

The thought is caught short when Kyouya uses his hand to stroke up and down Hikaru's cock along with his mouth and Hikaru collapses back again, getting closer to the edge with every moment. He starts panting, chest heaving, eyes unfocused – he can't get the upper hand right now, he knows Kyouya's going to make him come...

As he begins to cry out in orgasm he suddenly feels Kyouya pull his mouth away and his hands stop, one squeezing around his balls and the other squeezing around the base of his cock, stopping all but a dribble of clear semen from spurting out. Hikaru gasps and shakes, groaning in frustration and feeling a rush he's never felt before. The usual release that comes with climax doesn't come to him, replaced with a dizzying feeling of helplessness and desperation. When the feeling subsides and Kyouya has lowered his hands, Hikaru lies still, panting, and gapes up at him.

“What... what the _fuck_ was that?”

Kyouya cocks an eyebrow. “A ruined orgasm. Did you enjoy it?”

Hikaru continues to stare at him. “What? No!”

Kyouya half-smiles and one hand returns to Hikaru's cock – still hard, apparently from whatever he just did – and strokes gently up it, eliciting a hiss from Hikaru. “You still seem very excited.”

Hikaru scowls at him again. “Fuck you.”

“You can if you like,” says Kyouya.

“Hell no.”

“Well you can say that if you like but you probably shouldn't return to Haruhi in this kind of state...” His hand continues to move up and down Hikaru's cock while heavy guilt settles in Hikaru's throat.

“Don't mention her.” The words come out heavy and slow.

“Why not? I'm just saying – this is a practicality thing.”

“Just... shut up...” Hikaru sits up and sighs shakily. Kyouya follows suit, regarding Hikaru with an amused air.

“What are you looking at?” grumbles Hikaru.

Kyouya pushes his glasses up and shrugs. “You.”

“Fucking duh.”

“You look very nice like this.”

“Like what?”

“Sweaty. Desperate. _Wanton_.” As he speaks he crawls slowly forward so that their faces are mere centimetres apart. The proximity – along with the feeling of Kyouya's breath on his lips and the frustration of not having been able to climax properly – makes something in Hikaru ache. “You can't say you don't still want this. You want to be filled. You want to be _fucked_.”

“Shut up...” Hikaru knows the response is feeble and breathy.

“No.”

Kyouya kisses him again, insistent hands grabbing Hikaru's hips and pulling him into his lap. Hikaru hears Kyouya fumbling in a drawer and then the sound of something being squeezed out of a tube before he feels Kyouya's fingers probing at his backside and a long finger sliding in. Hikaru's thighs tense either side of Kyouya's hips and he feels Kyouya rubbing surprisingly gentle circles into the small of his back. He tries his best to relax, tries to welcome the intrusion, tries to focus on kissing Kyouya to distract himself. More fingers are added and Hikaru finds himself starting to push back on them, the lube numbing him and making it easier. When Kyouya replaces the fingers with his cock, Hikaru breaks the kiss on a gasp and sinks down, the feeling of being filled going up his spine in a heady rush. Tears spring to his eyes from the feeling and he feels his muscles clench just a little. Kyouya starts moving, lifting and shifting Hikaru in his lap, setting up a slow, steady rhythm. Hikaru fists the front of Kyouya's shirt with both hands, moaning into his lips.

“I hate you...” He barely realises he's saying the words until they're already out. “I hate you so much.”

For once Kyouya fails to return a taunting reply, instead choosing to pull Hikaru close against him and flip them both so that Hikaru is on his back once more. With the change of angle and slight increase in speed, Hikaru groans, and one of Kyouya's hands comes up to his chest. Hikaru expects him to maybe go for his nipples again, but the hand continues up, finally coming to rest around Hikaru's throat. With each thrust in, he squeezes Hikaru's throat, cutting off the air for just a moment – gently at first, but then growing more insistent as Hikaru gives no protest. Hikaru feels dizzy, the feeling intensifying the usual rush. Kyouya's other hand starts to pump Hikaru's cock in time with the rest of his movements. Hikaru doesn't last much longer, the final, long squeeze to his throat pushing him over the edge and into oblivion. He barely registers Kyouya coming too and pulling out, only returning to himself when he feels a warm, damp cloth cleaning him up. He pushes himself slowly to his elbows and watches Kyouya. Something heavy and horrible settles on him and he blinks away tears.

 

***

 

A few minutes later, he gets into his car and sends a quick message to Haruhi:

Hey sweetie, heading home

now, don't know if you're still up.

I love you. xxx

He drives home in a haze, trying desperately not to think about the only thing he _can_ think about. When he gets home, he goes upstairs to the bedroom and finds Haruhi reading in bed.

“Oh, hey,” she says, glancing at the clock. “You're back sooner than I expected – normally you take longer to get back from the office.”

Hikaru pauses, then says, “Yeah I uh... my phone was playing up, wouldn't send the text at first.”

He goes into the bathroom to take off his jumper and now-buttonless shirt, shoving both in the laundry hamper and turning around to see Haruhi standing behind him.

“What did you need to get?” she asks, brown eyes warm and curious but her mouth belying a measure of concern. Hikaru tries his best at a reassuring smile.

“Not a lot,” he says, reaching out to her and pulling her to him in an embrace. “Just some documents. Turns out they weren't there so I'll see if Kaoru has them in the morning.”

Haruhi hugs his waist. “Okay. Just... I missed you.”

Hikaru feels his heart crack at the quiet whisper of her voice and pulls her closer.

_What is wrong with me?_

 


	10. Chapter 9

Hikaru's back hits the wall with a thump. Kyouya's hands are everywhere and Hikaru pants and moans, tugging at Kyouya's shirt hem.

“I hate you,” he murmurs, the words rolling into another groan as Kyouya grabs Hikaru's cock through his trousers, squeezing hard.

“I'm aware,” Kyouya growls into his ear. “But you seem to have forgotten that I don't care what comes out of your mouth” – he pulls his hand away from Hikaru's crotch and brings it to the back of his head, pushing down – “only what goes in.”

 

***

 

Haruhi takes her time choosing a dress to wear, fingers lingering over lace trims, tuille skirts and delicate embroidery, and eventually settles on a blue-lilac skater dress with a simple bow at the waist. She knows she wears it a lot – she doesn't even remember wearing some of the other dresses before – but she likes the colour. She brushes out her hair, absently thinking she ought to get it trimmed before it gets to her shoulders, and throws a few essential things in her bag, pulling on a cardigan. She pokes her head around the door of Hikaru's office, finding it empty yet again. She sighs and haltingly walks to the front door, checking the living room on the way and still finding nothing. She swallows and picks up a small gift, wrapped in gold tissue paper, from the hallway table before leaving the house.

At the café, Haruhi is shown to the familiar private lounge upstairs and settles into an armchair, sighing contentedly at the fat cushions and the smooth leather. She watches people out of the window, waiting and thinking, absently turning her gold wedding band around her finger. A strong breeze starts up outside and she pulls her cardigan closer around herself in sympathy, curling herself subconsciously into her armchair, thoughts a long way away. She doesn't notice anyone else in the room until she feels a gentle touch to her shoulder and almost leaps out of the chair.

“Woah, hey, I didn't mean to make you jump!” says Tamaki, a tentative laugh on his lips, hands up with his palms towards her. “Sorry!”

Haruhi sighs, one hand on her chest. “No, don't worry, I wasn't paying attention,” she says. “You just startled me.”

She gets up out of the chair and they hug. With her face in his chest, Haruhi breathes in – Tamaki smells the same as always: comforting and warm – and she squeezes him tighter. They eventually break apart and sit down in the armchairs, leaving their orders with the waiter.

“You look lovely,” Tamaki says. “The colour suits you.”

“Thanks,” says Haruhi, a small smile appearing on her face. The compliment sits weirdly in the back of her mind in a way she doesn't understand and she shakes her head a little to distract herself. “Happy birthday.”

She reaches into her bag and pulls out the wrapped present, holding it out to him. His face lights up with a grin and he takes it from her.

“You're so sweet, I didn't expect a present.”

Haruhi laughs. “But it's your birthday and we arranged to celebrate.”

“True,” he says, running a finger along the taped-down edge of gold paper to open the present. “But really I just wanted to have a catch up with a good friend while I was in Tokyo.”

“Well don't say you don't want the present,” says Haruhi. “I spent a long time picking them out.”

Tamaki laughs and pulls off the paper to reveal a red box, inside of which he finds a handsome pair of gold cufflinks. “They're wonderful,” he says, gratitude shining in his eyes.

He leans over and hugs her again and the waiter re-appears with their drinks and a plate of finger sandwiches. The next few minutes pass with adding milk and sugar to their drinks and nibbling on the sandwiches.

“So what was it that had you so deep in thought?” he asks.

“Hmm?”

“When I came in and interrupted your reverie.”

A small frown passes across Haruhi's face. “Oh... it's nothing. I'm fine.”

Tamaki watches her move her gaze back to the window and the tiny, tentative touch she gives her wedding ring.

“How's Hikaru?” he asks, changing tactic, not quite as subtly as he would have liked.

She looks into his face again. “He's okay... I think.”

“You think?”

She hesitates. “I... don't see him much right now.”

“Oh...”

“Well I've been working a lot lately because I had a big case so I didn't really notice it much at first but he spends a lot of time at the office,” she says, almost in a rush.

“So he's been working a lot too?” he asks.

“Yeah he has a lot of international clients he needs to liaise with pretty late because of time differences and I get that, I really do, and I'm glad he likes his work enough to be so dedicated but Kaoru never seems to have to spend as much time working,” she says.

“That sounds frustrating,” says Tamaki.

Haruhi sighs. “I try not to get upset about it but... it gets lonely, you know? He comes home after I go to bed sometimes and I have whole days where I don't see him... Ugh, I sound so whiny and clingy, I'm sorry.”

“No it's completely understandable,” he reassures her. “You don't have to apologise.”

Haruhi shakes her head. “I know, just... I don't know, maybe it's just the whole 'marriage' thing, but it's just not like it used to be, not all the time anyway.”

“Not all the time?”

“Well sometimes I don't see him for days,” says Haruhi. “But then other times he comes home after a late finish and he's so sweet and loving and it's like I'm the only person in the world.”

Tamaki pauses, unsure what to say. His hands falter on his teacup and he places it down gently, considering his words. He's not sure how much he can say to her: he's her friend – sure, they used to be a couple, but that was... a while ago, and things have changed – and so is Hikaru. What is there he can say without upsetting her? He can't bear to cause her any pain; she looks tired and stressed-out enough as it is, but there is an elephant in the room of Tamaki's mind that he's not sure she shares. He looks for a delicate approach to take but finds his thoughts interrupted.

“I probably shouldn't be telling you any of this,” she says, staring into her coffee. “It's not your problem.”

He sighs. “I care about you, Haruhi, I want you to be happy.”

“I know but it seems so... I don't know, tacky I guess? To be telling you everything I mean.”

“I don't see anything 'tacky' in confiding in someone you trust.”

She puts down her cup. “I just... I don't know what to do.”

“Well... Hikaru's not that complicated a guy,” Tamaki tries. “You could just talk to him about stuff maybe?”

“What a novel idea, talking to my husband about our marital problems instead of whinging to someone else...” Haruhi picks at one of her sandwiches, eyes down.

Tamaki tilts his head sympathetically. “Have you talked to Kaoru about any of this?”

“A little.” Haruhi keeps her eyes fixed on the sandwich. “He said Hikaru's been going abroad for stuff without him more, pulling a lot of late shifts and looking really tired. He said he thought Hikaru was working on new designs and stuff but then there isn't a lot to show for it.”

Tamaki frowns, a little line appearing between his eyebrows that he would have made him freak out in earlier years. “So Kaoru doesn't get to see much of him either?”

Haruhi shakes her head. “Not unless they're both at work together.”

Tamaki bites the inside of his lip on a reply, deciding it's better not to say anything. He can't do it – he can't bring himself to cause her any pain by putting into words what he's thinking. He can see the stress in her eyes and the set of her shoulders: a wordless anticipation of the truth that she doesn't dare entertain because to do so scares her too much. He can't deal the final blow and push her off the precipice where hope still lingers by her side.

Instead, he picks up the teapot and gestures to her with it.

“More tea?”

 

***

 

Later, when Haruhi's on her way home, she realises she hasn't heard anything nice about how she looks from Hikaru in a while. The compliment Tamaki paid her about her dress, still sitting in the back of her mind, sighs for her.

 

***

 

Kaoru gasps for breath as Kyouya's cock is pulled out of his mouth. He takes big gulps of air, grateful to already be on his trembling knees, even if he can't see past the blindfold or move his arms from the ropes. Kyouya grabs his shoulder and pulls him to his feet, throwing him forward so that his upper body smacks flat onto Kyouya's desk. He feels the cold dribble of lube and hears Kyouya unzip his trousers and then Kyouya's cock pushes into him, making him moan desperately.

“Like getting fucked, Kaoru?” he hears Kyouya growl and the words make him keen quietly. “Of course you do, you dirty little slut.”

Kaoru shivers. Kyouya's never had much of a penchant for dirty talk before but lately he's been using it more and more often. Kaoru's not sure where it's come from. Not that he's _complaining_ , just... curious.

Kaoru feels Kyouya's hand drift up his spine to the back of his neck. He wonders if Kyouya might remove the blindfold but then the hand stops and Kyouya's fingers turn downwards, wrapping themselves around Kaoru's throat.

Kaoru tenses. He's never been into breathplay much – it puts him on edge too much to enjoy himself – but sometimes (only if they've talked about it beforehand and only gently) he lets Kyouya do it. This was never mentioned earlier though, and as Kyouya starts gently squeezing Kaoru's throat with each thrust, Kaoru starts to shake.

“Ky–” he manages to gasp out between squeezes. Blind panic floods his system and he grasps in his compromised mind for the safeword. “Oura–” It's no use: Kyouya's getting faster and more insistent. With tears starting to dampen the blindfold, Kaoru does the last thing he can and clicks his fingers rapidly three times.

He hears a hissed gasp from behind him and Kyouya pulls out, hand leaving Kaoru's neck immediately. The blindfold is removed, along with the rope, and Kaoru stands up, turning to look at Kyouya. His golden eyes shine with tears, betrayal clear in his face, and Kyouya is staring at him wide-eyed.

“I'm sorry,” he rasps. “I... don't know what happened, I... guess I just got carried away and too into the moment. I'm so sorry.”

Kaoru lifts up a hand and wipes his wet cheek. “Please don't do it again.”

“I won't,” says Kyouya. “I promise. I'm so sorry.”

Kaoru accepts the hug Kyouya pulls him into, still shaking, and feels a nasty thought raise its head inside him.

 


	11. Chapter 10

Kaoru pulls up outside Hikaru's house and kills the engine, grip hard on the steering wheel. He takes a steadying breath and stares at the tree over the fence, trying to organise his thoughts as he eyes the golden leaves highlighted by the street light. He's been sitting on one particularly large doubt for months and he needs to talk to Hikaru right now.

Since the evening when Kyouya caused Kaoru to use his safeword – which he hasn't had to do for a long time – something in him has been seeking why. He questioned Kyouya at the time and never got much of a response beyond him being “lost in the moment” and repeated apologies. Since then, Kyouya's been a lot more careful, checking everything he does with Kaoru before he does it. Kaoru appreciates it, but the gnawing sensation in the back of his mind grows stronger and he finds that he's been spending a lot of his time alone (which is increasing as Hikaru keeps spending more time out of the office) thinking about things. He turns the possibilities over and over in his mind like pebbles on a beach, seeking answers to a question he's not sure he knows.

And he's here because he needs to talk to his twin right away. He's noticed a certain... pattern that he never thought he should have noticed, but now he can't un-think it. He hasn't even brought himself to fully _think_ the thought – he approaches it, reaches for it... then recoils again. He can't let himself believe that Kyouya... or Hikaru...

It's absurd though. Hikaru _hates_ him. Kaoru's never seen Hikaru have that much hate for someone – not even the teacher who tried to separate them in school when they were seven in a bid to curb their constant mischievousness. Hikaru had been gleeful in putting an end to that teacher's attempts. The looks he throws Kyouya are venomous, laced with anger and something Kaoru has never been able to place, no matter how much he thinks about it and recalls his brother's face in his mind's eye. The possibility barely exists – Kaoru can't seriously entertain it.

And yet he does.

But if it turns out he is just being paranoid and Hikaru really does just hate Kyouya, at least talking to his twin brother might make him feel better. To put any of this into words though...

Kaoru sighs and lowers his head to rest on the top of the steering wheel, steeling himself. He needs to do this; he can't leave it any longer. He forces himself to get out of the car, the cool September night air making him shiver as he dashes to the front door and rings the bell before he can lose his nerve. He waits in the light of the porch lamp, still debating running back to his car, but then the door opens and Haruhi appears before him. Her eyelashes are stuck together and there's a red puffiness to her face; coupled with the tremble of her lips and the faint smell of wine on her, what she's been doing is obvious.

“Haruhi, are you okay?” asks Kaoru. _Well, obviously not._

Haruhi opens her mouth and closes it again, clenching one hand into a shaking fist. “Er... I... I don't know. I...” She glances over her shoulder. “Hikaru's... not here.”

Kaoru feels a confusing sense of disappointment and relief. If Hikaru's not here, he can't talk to him. Yes, he probably shouldn't put it off any more... But on the other hand, his heart is aching just looking at Haruhi right now and he knows her need is greater.

“Do you want some company?” he asks, swallowing the anxious lump in his throat.

She nods and opens the door so he can come in, closing it behind them and wordlessly walking through to the dining room with Kaoru following. He sees two plates of food set up, along with glasses and a bottle of wine, some of which is in one of the half-drained glasses. He frowns but then clocks the date.

“Oh Haruhi, I'm so sorry,” he says. “I didn't realise...”

He pulls her into a hug and feels her arms encircle his waist. She's shaking and he hugs her tighter, feeling sympathetic tears spring to his own eyes. He knows Hikaru's been away a lot and that Haruhi has been alone when he is – but for him to miss his first anniversary celebration with his wife... Kaoru shakes his head in disappointment.

“I'm so sorry Haruhi,” he says again. “It's not fair.”

She gasps on a sob, sniffing wetly. “I know... I know he... has work... and... I don... I don't want to... to... be horrible or... or a pain but... but... I... I miss him... so... so much...”

She dissolves into sobs once more and Kaoru rubs (what he hopes are) comforting circles into her back, kissing her forehead gently to try and offer her some closeness. He holds her close, trying to whisper comfort to her, though he knows it can't be that much help. She slows eventually and pulls away.

“I'm sorry,” she rasps. “I didn't mean to cry on you.”

“It's fine,” he says. “You can always cry on me.”

“And snot on you?”

She gestures to the front of his jacket and he looks down to see a trail of goo on him. He laughs softly, shrugging the jacket off his shoulders.

“It's fine.” He leaves it over the back of a chair and looks her up and down. The small amount of make up she's applied has streaked down her cheeks and her hair is ruffled. Her eyes are wide and bloodshot and she's still trembling.

“I left him a message...” Kaoru notices for the first time – probably because she's mostly stopped crying – that she's slurring a little bit. “He never replied so... I opened the wine and... now you're here and I'm... just...” She stops and sighs. “Do you want some wine? It's open, we might as well have it.”

Kaoru nods. “Sure, sounds good.”

Haruhi grabs the bottle and glasses off the table and takes them through to the living room, where a few lit candles fill the room with a soft pink glow and the smell of flowers. She snorts, apparently in derision at her own attempt at romance, but leaves them burning and pours Kaoru a glass before topping up her own and curling onto the sofa. He sits next to her and takes a sip (a little dry for his taste but not bad), casting around for something to talk about that won't lead back to Haruhi sobbing.

 

***

 

A couple of hours later, they're a glass each into a second bottle and Kaoru's feeling warmer and happier. Judging by the rosy glow to Haruhi's face as she reaches to pour more into her glass she's in a similar mood. He's relieved to see her not crying anymore, as much as he knows somewhere in his mind that drinking this much is probably a bad idea. The thought is far off, behind a thick wall of cotton wool... well, wine-soaked cotton wool more accurately. It provides the cushioning for Kaoru to tilt his glass in indication for Haruhi to top him up yet again. She does so with wobbling hands but manages not to spill any, and they settle back into the sofa cushions once more.

“I don't know what I expected,” sighs Haruhi.

“Huh?” Kaoru's mind is too sluggish to follow her train of thought.

“From tonight,” she slurs. “From Hikaru.”

“Oh...” He's not sure what to say. He's been trying to find ways to keep her from dwelling on Hikaru and the ruined dinner, but now he can't think fast enough to keep up with her.

“I just... I guess I thought... because it's our anniversary...” She trails off, staring into her glass.

“I wouldn't have expected it either,” says Kaoru. “I mean, who forgets their wedding anniversary? Seriously?”

Haruhi gestures with her glass. “Exactly – it's kind of important... I'm not being crazy for saying that, right?”

Kaoru shakes his head. “Not at all.”

“Good...” Haruhi looks thoughtful. “Just... I don't know...”

“Hmm?”

“No, it's stupid.”

“Don't say that, I'm sure it's not.”

“Well... I don't know... I probably shouldn't tell you this but Hikaru's been kind of... weird... like... in bed recently.” Despite the alcohol, she looks like she might be blushing – Kaoru however feels a sense of openness.

“How so?” he asks.

She frowns. “The other night... he came back late again and I woke up... He kept saying sorry and kissing me and... well, you know, one thing led to another... and I wasn't complaining because it's been so... I guess quiet... or just lonely...”

“Makes sense,” says Kaoru.

“But then... I don't... I... I'm... I don't know why but... he... tried to choke me.”

“ _What?_ ” The words hit Kaoru almost in the back of his head.

Haruhi's eyebrows are knitted together over her eyes. “Exactly... I don't get it. I was lying there and then his hands were around my throat and he was squeezing.”

Something wicked and unrecognisable bangs against the cotton wool wall in Kaoru's mind.

“Are you okay?” he asks – he's not sure what else he can say to that.

She nods. “I kicked him.”

Kaoru snorts involuntarily, but quickly stops. “Sorry, I shouldn't laugh at that – I'm glad you're okay. It's just kind of a funny image.”

Haruhi laughs quietly. “It was pretty funny,” she admits with a sigh. “Much like my marriage...”

“Haruhi...”

“No, it's ridiculous,” she says. “I'm sitting here on my first anniversary, getting stupid drunk with my brother-in-law, I don't know where my husband is and I'm not even sure he loves me.”

Kaoru shakes his head. “He does,” he insists. “I'm sure of it.”

“Really?” she asks. “I don't get why he'd try to strangle me if he did.”

Kaoru opens his mouth to say something, but then closes it again. Even through the haze of wine he doesn't want to talk about Kyouya and the safeword thing with her, even though – or maybe because? – it feels familiar. The dark thing behind the cotton wool laughs evilly.

“Do you...” She seems to be trying to say something she can't quite approach. “Is... Hikaru... Do you think he could be... having an affair?”

Kaoru says nothing. He can't say lie to her – she doesn't deserve it. At the same time, he doesn't want to tell her the truth that he's been avoiding, dancing around with vague excuses to himself and which he's only just had confirmed. She doesn't deserve that either.

But his silence tells her everything.

“Right...” Her lip wobbles and Kaoru's instincts kick into gear through the alcohol.

“Hey, don't cry,” he says. He leans forward and puts down his glass, taking hers from her too. He pulls her into a hug, holding her tight. When they break apart, he cups her face in his hands, feeling the cool touch of tears on his fingers. “Please don't cry...”

Haruhi sniffs and takes a few deeper breaths. “I'm trying, I'm sorry.”

Kaoru shakes his head. “Don't apologise,” he says, trying to sound firm. “You don't have to apologise. You're amazing and lovely and sweet and wonderful and my brother is an _idiot_.”

“Really?” Her eyes are shining and huge – when did they get so close?

“Really.”

Haruhi's so close now that their noses are almost brushing. They stay like that for a long moment – Kaoru can feel his breath and hers mingling – and neither of them knows which one of them closes the gap but in the next moment their lips touch. Kaoru's eyes slip shut and he feels Haruhi's hands ball the front of his shirt up in fists. He pulls her to him – some distant part of him wailing in protest at what he's doing – and she sighs into the kiss. With his arms around her waist, he can feel her pulse beating hard and fast through her body, and he knows his is the same. Her hands run up his chest and he feels her arms wrap around his neck.

When they break apart for air, he looks into her face, trying to gauge her mood. She looks wide-eyed and a little stunned, but she leans forward again and kisses him once more, her open lips soft and inviting. Kaoru experimentally touches his tongue to hers and he feels her tugging at the front of his shirt again. Spurred on, he lets his hands drift down to squeeze her bottom and feels her groan into his mouth in response. She presses her body to his, her small breasts squeezing against his chest, and Kaoru sighs quietly in appreciation at the warm feeling. It's been a while since he even kissed a girl, let alone much else, and he notes distantly how different it is to being with a guy and especially Kyouya.

Haruhi nibbles on his lower lip and he brings his hands to her front to cup her breasts through her dress and bra. She responds by starting to tug at the buttons on his shirt, trying to undo them despite her drunken movements. The shift of fabric on his chest brings him back to himself a little and he pulls away from her, panting. He's about to say something but when she takes his pulling away as him proffering his neck and her lips behind his ear drive all other thoughts from his wine-addled mind. He moans quietly and she continues kissing down to his collar, her hands popping open buttons on his shirt. He notices that she's moved and is now kneeling above him on the edge of the sofa and sees her about to topple before she does. Throwing out an arm, he catches her a second from falling and gets to his feet, pulling her to him.

“Oh, whoops...” She mumbles. “Haven't stood up in a while.”

Kaoru nods – he's noticing the room spinning around him and holds onto her tighter to anchor himself in the present.

“Bedroom?” she suggests.

He nods again. _Fuck it._

They stagger upstairs, hands all over each other, clothes littering the hallway and stairs as they go. By the time they get up to the bed – in the spare bedroom, Kaoru notices – they're down to their underwear. Haruhi falls back onto the bed and Kaoru crawls on top of her, snaking a quick hand under her back to undo and take off her bra (black lace – he tries not to think about why). He tosses it away and bends down to take one of her nipples into his mouth. She bites her lip on a groan and he palms her other breast before running one finger over the nipple. His other hand moves down her body, drawing gentle lines on her torso and tummy before slipping into her underwear. She gasps as his thumb flicks over her clit and his fingers move lower to gently stroke at her soaked cunt. Haruhi writhes under him, arching her back off the bed and whimpering. When she gives a louder gasp and groan, Kaoru starts moving his fingers faster, curling them as if to beckon her closer, eventually feeling her muscles clench and shake as she comes with a breathy sigh. He lets her ride it out before withdrawing his fingers and looking down at her.

She pulls him in for another sloppy kiss and then reaches downwards, pushing down his boxers. He tries to kick them off but has to catch himself before he falls on her. He opts to lie down to pull them off while she removes her underwear. Lying naked beside one another, Haruhi rolls onto her side and catches his ear with her teeth, hand going to his cock to pump it. He groans and feels her tongue running around the outside of his ear and along his jaw. When she reaches his lips she catches them in another kiss and Kaoru rolls off his side and over her, one hand stroking gently down her body and to her thighs to part them. He pushes into her slowly and she sighs, content, the sound turning to moans when he starts thrusting his hips.

He kisses her again, one hand returning to her breasts to stroke across her skin and roam between her nipples. She bucks her hips, shuddering at the onslaught of sensations, and their kisses become open-mouthed and wet. Kaoru feels himself approaching his end already – _probably the wine, right?_ – and thinks Haruhi might be getting close too, based on the noises she's making and the way he can feel her convulsing around his cock. He grasps at the bed covers and groans as he comes, feeling her gasping into his mouth as she follows suit. Their movements slowly still and eventually, with a sigh from them both, Kaoru pulls out. He grabs for the tissue box on the bedside table to clean up, unsure what to say to her. Wordlessly, he wipes up the mess and throws the tissues in the bin, making a mental note to get rid of them more permanently and trying to figure out what the little voice in the back of his head is telling him. It feels important, but he can't place why. He sighs and sits on the edge of the bed. He needs to say something.

“Uh... so...” He starts, not sure what else to say. When he hears nothing from her, he turns to look at her over his shoulder and sees that Haruhi has fallen asleep. Her chest rises and falls slowly and her face holds none of the stress and tension that was in it when he arrived earlier in the day. He half-smiles and gets up, pulling on his boxers. Slowly and as gently as he can manage when half his brain is still slushy from the alcohol, Kaoru slips his arms underneath her body and carries her to her own bed – covered in dried rose petals, obviously in anticipation of something else.

Placing her down, he rummages in various drawers and eventually finds a nightshirt, which he slips onto her before tucking her in under the covers. He goes back into the spare room and retrieves her underwear and bra, tossing both in the laundry hamper in the corner of the bathroom. Once he has retrieved the rest of their clothes from the stairs and hallway, he adds hers to the hamper and puts his own back on before brushing the petals off the bed and putting them in the bin.

He straightens his hair out in the mirror while he calls his driver to come get him ( _I am not fit to drive anything – including my own body – right now._ ) and then turns to look at his sister-in-law in the bed. Again, he's not sure what to do. Should he leave a note? Probably not. Should he try to wake her? She seems comfortable and her breathing is fine, it seems unnecessary... He grabs a basin from the kitchen and leaves it by the bed for her in case she needs to vomit at any point.

He heads downstairs, closing her bedroom door behind him, and grabs the spare bedroom bin. He throws the tissues from there into the kitchen bin, still feeling a distant sense that he's forgotten something, but still unable to place it, and gets a message from his driver to tell him the car is outside.

 

***

 

Hikaru pulls up to his house, knowing that the time is probably somewhere around two in the morning and that he needs to be quiet when he gets inside. His eyes are bleary, his muscles ache and he wants nothing more than to fall into bed. When climbs out of the car, however, the front door opens and he freezes, suddenly noticing the extra car in his driveway. He knows it can't be Kyouya – or at least he really hopes not – because he just left his house. Instead, Kaoru emerges from inside and closes the door behind him, stopping short when he sees Hikaru there. His clothes are somewhat creased and his eyes look bloodshot and tired. There's an air of something playing about his face that Hikaru can't place, but as Hikaru tries to muster words from inside himself, Kaoru's features smooth.

“Hey,” he says to Hikaru, voice slightly hoarse.

“Hey...” Hikaru's voice is automatic and feels far away.

“Late night at the office?” asks Kaoru.

“Uhh...” Hikaru's voice catches and he coughs. “Yeah, just... needed to go back for something.”

 _How much does he know? How much can he know? Does he know anything?_ Hikaru's thoughts race around his head, chasing one another and making him dizzy. He shakes his head.

“Fair enough...” Kaoru doesn't seem to want to push, instead gesturing behind him to the house. “Haruhi's asleep, she... was kind of upset, we both drank a lot...” He seems on the edge of saying something more, but then falls quiet again, golden eyes unreadable.

“Is she okay?” asks Hikaru.

“Yeah, I...” Kaoru seems tired and a little hesitant. “I made sure she was comfortable and stuff, but it's probably best not to disturb her.”

Hikaru nods. “Okay.”

“Anyway, I should go, my driver's here.” Kaoru gestures across the street, where a car waits for him. “And it's kind of cold out here.”

“Yeah, fair enough,” says Hikaru.

Apparently coming to himself a little more, he walks forward to meet his brother and pulls him into a hug, which Kaoru returns. There's something strange in the hug, and Kaoru seems quick to pull away, but Hikaru barely registers, instead nodding.

“See you soon.”

“Later.”

Kaoru sets off down the driveway and gets into the car, giving Hikaru a little wave before he closes the door and pulls away. Hikaru watches him go until the car goes around the corner and out of sight, before opening his front door and going inside.

He hangs up his coat and kicks off his shoes, wandering through to the dining room, where he suddenly feels a cold hand clamp around his stomach. The food on the table stares at him accusingly, and he sees a red envelope sticking out from under one of the plates. He picks it up with shaking hands and knows what will be inside long before he pulls out the card.

A sweet picture of two penguins greets him, holding flippers and obviously smitten. He opens the card and sees Haruhi's neat handwriting:

_'Happy anniversary Hikaru. I love you so much and I'm so lucky to have you.'_

There's more underneath, but Hikaru can't read it through tears. His face crumples and he drops the card, covering his face with his hands. Sobs rack his body and he pulls out one of the dining chairs to sit down, gasping for breath.

_I can't keep this up._

 


	12. Chapter 11

 When Haruhi wakes the next morning, it's to a pounding headache and a tall glass of water on the bedside table. She pushes herself up into a sitting position and picks up the glass, noting the basin by the bed. Fortunately it seems she hasn't needed it. She sips the water slowly, trying to ignore the room spinning around her.

She tries to piece together the previous night. She can't remember anything beyond opening the second bottle of wine and has no idea how she got to bed. She remembers Kaoru being around and drinking with him and crying a lot... but other than that, her mind is all but blank.

As she sits there silently, she hears footsteps and Hikaru comes into the room carrying a tray.

“Hey,” he smiles. “Good morning.” He puts the tray down to one side and perches on the edge of the bed. “Are you feeling okay? Kaoru said you'd drunk a lot so I thought the water might help, and I brought you breakfast.”

“It's great,” she says. “Thanks.”

She's not sure how to talk to him. The sting from the missed dinner last night is still sitting, prickly, in the back of her mind, and there's a dark feeling enveloping it that she can't figure out past the thumping headache.

“Umm...” He's fiddling with the cuff of his sweater and looks like he's avoiding her gaze. “I'm really sorry I missed dinner last night.”

“It's okay,” she says automatically.

“No, it's not,” says Hikaru. “I missed our first anniversary and that's _not_ okay.”

Haruhi bites her lip, not sure what else to say. Part of her wants to chew him out for not being there last night and make him feel as guilty as possible as punishment for making her feel so incredibly awful. But at the same time, a much larger part of her mind – a part that moves in slow, predictable motions – calls to her and beckons her towards forgiveness. She slowly shakes her head.

“It's not,” she breathes, the words barely voiced beyond a murmur.

“I'm sorry,” he repeats, scooting closer to her on the bed and taking her free hand. “I'm so sorry.” He raises her hand to his lips and kisses her fingers. “I understand if you don't really want to see me at the moment – I don't even want to _be_ me right now – but I promise if there is anything I can do to make it up to you I will do it.”

A question buds and sits on the tip of Haruhi's tongue, longing to be both spoken and swallowed down. She looks from their clasped hands to Hikaru's face, and her conviction leaves her. His eyebrows are slanted downwards and there are heavy bags under his golden eyes – he looks exhausted.

“Have you slept?” she asks, almost without thinking.

Hikaru shakes his head. “Not really. I got back a little after two and I kind of just dozed on the sofa for like... ten minutes at a time. Couldn't stay asleep.”

Haruhi shifts and pulls back the duvet cover. “Then sleep,” she says.

Hikaru frowns. “Are you sure?”

She nods. “You need to sleep,” she says. “You look terrible.”

“Gee, thanks,” he chuckles, but crawls next to her and slips under the covers. Haruhi lies down beside him, her headache subsiding a little as she lays her head down on the pillow and rolls onto her side to look at him. He turns his face to her and looks searchingly into her eyes. “How are you feeling?”

“I'm okay,” she says. She can hear the uncertainty in her own voice. “My head feels weird when I sit up but this is definitely not an awful hangover.”

“That's good,” Hikaru says, a half-smile on his face that does not reach his eyes.

Silence crawls into the bed and lies between them, heavy and laughing. Haruhi lets out a slow breath and tries to gather her words, but Hikaru gets there first.

“I took the next few days off work,” he says suddenly.

Haruhi blinks, her mind slow to pick up the words. “Huh?”

“I booked in some vacation time,” he says. “I called Kaoru earlier this morning and asked him to cover for me until next week. I've... been working too much. It feels like I haven't seen you in so long and after last night I just... I need to stop for a while.”

“Oh...” Any words Haruhi had for him disappear into a haze.

“I want to make it up to you,” he adds in a rush. “We can spend the next few days celebrating our anniversary and catching up and... I don't know, just... being together...? Only if you want to, of course.”

Haruhi gazes at him open-mouthed. Whatever she was expecting (and admittedly dreading), this is almost the opposite. Last night she was gearing for a fight – probably a big messy tearful fight, but still a fight. This morning, lying in bed and hearing his words, his promises... She blinks and her vision wobbles. _I don't want to fight._

“Umm...” Hikaru seems to be faltering under her silent stare. “Please say something?”

Haruhi's lips tremble and tears finally spill from her eyes and down her cheeks. She bites her lip but then says, “I... I... Yes...”

“Yes?” Hikaru looks nervous.

She nods. “Yes. That sounds... it sounds good.”

Hikaru's eyes tear up too and his face splits into a grin. “Really?”

“Yes,” she whispers, a shaky smile on her face too even as she continues to cry. The next thing she knows, Hikaru's lips meet her own and his hands reach around her waist, pulling her to him under the covers. She kisses him back, hesitantly at first but then gaining confidence and holding his face in her hands, fingers resting behind his ears. They kiss desperately, their movements becoming more urgent as they rediscover one another. Haruhi puts her arms around Hikaru's neck and touches her tongue to his, welcoming his hands reaching to the hem of her nightshirt to pull it up and stroke her back.

Hikaru hums quietly in contentment as Haruhi starts to undo his shirt, her fingers deft despite her swimming head. Once they are all open, she pushes his shirt off his shoulders, and he helps pull it off his arms. With the shirt gone, Haruhi runs her hands down his chest, the gentle touch of her fingers making him shiver even in the warmth of their bed. Hikaru pulls away from the kiss, her lips chasing his, before he lowers his head back down and kisses along her jawline and to her neck. She sighs, fingernails digging into his sides a little as he sucks on the place where her neck and shoulder meet and his hands continue up her back, the nightshirt riding up to her shoulders. Eventually they part and Hikaru tosses the nightshirt away, and they catch one another's gaze with wide, tender eyes: gold and brown.

“I missed you.”

“I missed you too.”

Haruhi leans up and kisses Hikaru again, groaning weakly into his mouth as his fingers caress her breasts. She shivers, his touch sending fire through her veins, and he gently pinches her nipples. She runs a hand through the hair on the back of Hikaru's head, lacing her fingers in the short strands and tugging a little. Hikaru moans, the sound rumbling through his chest and out of his lips into hers, urging her hands downward to his waistband. She works it open with trembling hands, her attention still on his fingers, and then pops open the button on his jeans. Before she can get to the fly, Hikaru pulls away from her lips and kisses down her chin and chest, eventually licking one nipple and making Haruhi bite her lip on a gasp.

Something nudges on the edge of her consciousness, but through the haze of Hikaru's body against hers and her slight grogginess she can't place it. She loses herself to the feeling of Hikaru's teeth gently grazing her skin and his hands, warm and inviting, wandering her tummy and hips. His lips wander too: over the slopes of her breasts and down her tummy, teeth nipping gently at the skin at her hipbones and then at the insides of her thighs. Haruhi lets out a shaky sigh as Hikaru licks at her clit, her heart purring under his ministrations. He continues licking her, leaving lingering kisses and soft sucks as well. Haruhi's hand comes down and tangles in his hair, holding him in place – as if she needs to. Hikaru lifts Haruhi's thighs and runs his hands up and down the backs of them, eventually hooking them around his shoulders and squeezing them, his nails leaving little parentheses in her flesh. She moans, the sound turning breathy in her mouth as he probes further with his tongue, dipping it inside her.

“Hikaru...” She murmurs, head falling back into the pillow and eyes fluttering closed. Hikaru leads her closer and closer, keeping up an insistent rhythm on her with his tongue, until eventually she lets out a higher moan and shudders. Hikaru helps her ride out her orgasm, letting her enjoy the high for as long as he can before coming back up to lie alongside her. Haruhi kisses him, hands going to his trousers again, and she pushes them down. He helps, wriggling out of them and his boxers. Haruhi brings her hands to his cock, making him groan into her mouth. She pulls the skin up and down, and he jumps a little. Her touch is the most tender he's felt in a long time, and he kisses her harder, wanting to tell her everything he's feeling without saying anything.

Soon, Haruhi breaks the kiss and sits up, climbing to sit on his thighs. He sits up too, back resting against the headboard, and cups her face in his hands.

“You are so beautiful,” he says, gold eyes trained on her brown. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

“Why wouldn't I be?” she asks, looking vaguely concerned.

He shrugs. “Just you said you were feeling pretty bleh and we haven't really done this in a while.”

Haruhi smiles. “I want to,” she assures him. “I've missed you so much.”

Hikaru feels tears threaten and squeezes her hands. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” she says, leaning forward to kiss him on the mouth. “Condom?”

“Sure...” He leans sideways awkwardly, opening and reaching into his top drawer to retrieve it as Haruhi's hands go back to gently stroking his erection. He hands the condom to her and she puts it on him before getting on her knees above him. She pauses for a moment, enjoying him sucking on one nipple again, before she slowly sits down, his cock sinking into her.

Face to face, their eyes meet, and Haruhi feels that same nudge, right on the periphery, that she felt before. She thinks for a second that it's something vaguely important, but then Hikaru's hips twitch and she bites her lip on a smile, beginning to slowly move her body. Their movements settle into a slow but needy rhythm, the air filled with their moans and sighs, until eventually, clinging to one another and covered in a light sheen of sweat, they both reach a shaking climax, each other's names breathed onto each other's lips. They stay together, Hikaru's arms around Haruhi's waist, for a little longer, hearts racing against one another, until eventually, Haruhi gets up. They clean up quickly with tissues, and settle back into bed together. Haruhi glances over at the tray from earlier.

“Breakfast is probably cold by now,” she says.

Hikaru nods. “To be honest it was probably inedible anyway,” he says. “I tried to make pancakes but I couldn't get the mix right and it went lumpy every time, and then I burned it so I gave up and made toast but I burned that too. I was hoping the thought was still nice.”

Haruhi smiles. “It was, thank you.”

 

***

 

Hikaru makes good on his promise of vacation time, and Haruhi takes a break from her work too. Over the next couple of weeks they spend almost every day together, enjoying each other's company again. Hikaru keeps in enough contact with Kaoru to not fall behind on work too badly, despite Kaoru's insistence that everything is fine without him and to please not worry. Any doubts Haruhi still had over Hikaru melt almost entirely away as they spend long mornings in bed and evenings out at dinner or sometimes going to other places – she takes him to the theatre and he takes her on a moonlight boat ride in the bay. Other evenings they simply stay home and watch films while snuggled on the sofa, or head to bed early, arms around each other. The grey weight that seemed to have settled in Haruhi's heart feels lifted, and the sparkle seems to have returned to Hikaru's golden eyes. Eventually, they both return to their jobs from the break, but short, affectionate messages pass between them while they're apart.

Haruhi's at work the first time she vomits. It sneaks up on her after a long meeting during which she had been tugging at the collar of her shirt in an effort to cool down. She stands in the toilet cubicle, wiping bile from the corners of her lips with a square of toilet paper, and cursing her decision to get fish for lunch earlier. She flushes the toilet and leaves, washing her hands and trying not to think anything more of it. When she mentions it casually to Hikaru over dinner, he frowns.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

“Yeah,” she says. “I think maybe I just ate something funny.”

“Are you sure?” he asks. “If you want I can cancel my trip.”

She shakes her head. “No, it's fine – please, I don't want you to miss out on it on my account when you've been doing so much prep for it. It's only two weeks.”

He nods. “Okay, if you're certain, but I can come home if you need me.”

In the morning she sees him off, feeling fine, and heads to the office to work on case studies for the new interns. When she throws up several more times during the next couple of days however, she starts to worry. She really doesn't want to get sick, not after having just had two weeks off with little notice, and she feels mostly okay other than a slightly heightened body temperature and the persistent nausea. When Hikaru and Kaoru Skype her from China, telling her about what they've been up to and asking about how she's been doing, she doesn't mention the vomiting to them. There's no use worrying Hikaru, not while he's abroad and he and Kaoru have so much to be thinking about already. Hikaru doesn't ask, and she assumes he's forgotten with everything the twins are up to.

With no one to tell her otherwise or force her to seek medical attention, she does her best to focus on her work: preparing documents for cases, meeting clients, attending meetings. Eventually, on the Friday, she concedes to work from home so she can have the luxury of being sick in her own toilet instead of ducking out of her office periodically. She spends half the day sitting beside the toilet and the other half trying to do as much work as she can before she needs to go throw up again. Out of frustration, she googles her symptoms and her eyebrows rise.

It can't be, surely...?

She checks her diary and finds she's eight days late.

 

***

 

The pair of little blue lines stay in the back of Haruhi's mind for the next few days, burned into her brain. After the first two tests are positive she goes back out and gets two more boxes. With six different tests arrayed around her on the bathroom floor, all positive, the truth starts to sink in.

She runs a slow hand over her tummy, feeling the warmth of her palm through her jumper. Her heart flutters uncertainly and she bites her lip. The future spirals away from her in a surreal blur, tying her stomach in knots. She sighs, her breath shaky, feeling so full of everything that she's not sure if she's going to laugh or cry. The knowledge that she needs to tell Hikaru sits heavy on her shoulders: not unpleasant, but she's never felt so anxious about needing to tell someone something before – not even when she told her father about Hikaru. The knotted feeling inside her tingles with anticipation and she stares down at the tests on the floor.

 

***

 

The two weeks in China pass by about as normally as business trips ever do. Meetings, conferences and briefings all go smoothly and Hikaru feels pretty positive by the end of the trip. He gets a single message from Kyouya while he's away, which he does his best to ignore, and he does what he can to mask his surprise when Kaoru doesn't mention Kyouya in the entire time they're away. Not that he's complaining, but Kaoru's never gone so long without talking about his boyfriend before. Unwilling to broach the subject, Hikaru says nothing. He's not even sure what he wants any more.

When they get back from China and Hikaru finds Haruhi working from home, he doesn't think too much of it. She works from home relatively frequently, and he's happy to have her around when he's there too. The two of them spend a little more time together, but Hikaru ends up getting dragged back to the office and Haruhi seems to accept this fairly readily, despite the late evenings Hikaru has to pull.

One afternoon, Hikaru manages to get away early, having got his meetings out of the way in the morning and not needing to stick around for any particular reason.

“I'm home,” he calls as he pushes open the front door. He hears Haruhi vaguely respond from the bathroom, her voice bouncing off the tiled walls and through the door, and wanders into the dining room. Haruhi's laptop and her case files are scattered on the table, the chair still pushed away from it. He tucks it back under the table and catches sight of a familiar name on Haruhi's screen: an email from Tamaki.

He skims the contents almost before he realises what he's doing, but when he sees his own name he frowns and reads more intently, a little line of consternation appearing between his eyebrows. His fist clenches as he hears Haruhi flush the toilet and the bathroom door open. Her footsteps stop in the doorway and he turns to face her.

“What's this?” he asks, his voice a tight line.

Haruhi frowns at him, hurt in her eyes. “Did you read my emails?”

Hikaru feels only a brief sense of shame, more at being found out than what he did because goodness knows he's done worse by now. “Why does Tamaki seem to know so much about you and me?”

Haruhi fixes him with a glare. “Because I told him.”

“Why?! Why would you do that?”

“Because.”

“What?”

“ _Because_!” she yells, her voice raising up to the ceiling. “Because I didn't have anyone else to talk to! Because he seemed to actually care about me when you weren't even here! Because I thought my own husband _didn't love me_!”

“That's not true!” says Hikaru through gritted teeth. “I do love you! I've loved you since high school!”

“Then where _were_ you?” she asks. “Because I sure as hell didn't go anywhere! I was here! I was _alone_!”

Hikaru feels a stab of guilt in his stomach. “I... I'm sorry.”

“Yeah you should be!” she says, apparently unable to put the brakes on herself. “I felt like shit! For months! I spent our anniversary with Kaoru, drinking!” Something in her expression rolls into uncertainty and back again as she looks up at him.

“I already apologised for that,” he says.

“Doesn't stop it hurting.” She looks like she might be about to say more, but then she retches, one hand coming to cover her mouth.

“Are you okay?”

“I'm fine,” she practically growls, hand coming down.

Hikaru eyes her. “Have you been throwing up?”

She hesitates before nodding.

“The whole time I was gone?”

She nods again.

“You need to go to the doctor,” he says, any anger in his face leaving to be replaced with concern. “Throwing up for two weeks isn't normal.”

“I don't need to go,” says Haruhi.

“You do.”

“No, I don't.” She sighs. “I already know what's wrong...”

When she doesn't immediately elaborate, Hikaru steps closer and grabs her by the shoulders. “Haruhi?”

Haruhi's gaze finally meets his. “I'm pregnant.”

Hikaru's eyes go wide. “Really?”

She nods. “I made an appointment to go to the doctor in a few days. I wanted to tell you in a better way.”

“But...” Hikaru can feel the stunned look in his slack jaw and raised eyebrows. “We always use a condom...”

Haruhi shrugs. “I guess one of them must have broken.”

Hikaru nods silently, staring at Haruhi.

“Are you okay?” she asks.

“Y-yeah,” Hikaru says, grinning. “I... This... I...” Unable to get his words straight, he pulls her into a hug, suddenly feeling surprised giggles bubbling up inside him. “We're going to have a baby!”

Haruhi laughs breathlessly as he kisses her. “I know it's not what we planned and we were going to leave it a few more years but I think maybe this was just meant to happen.”

Hikaru nods, happy tears prickling his eyes. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too.”

As he kisses Haruhi and feels her arms tight around his neck, Hikaru makes a mental note to end things with Kyouya once and for all.


	13. Chapter 12

Kaoru takes a deep breath and lets it go slowly, the soft sound of his sigh the only thing he hears. It's been ten minutes and he still can't work up the balls to get out of the car and go ring Kyouya's doorbell. Ever since the night he spent with Haruhi, when his worst suspicions were all but confirmed and he made a lot of terrible decisions, he's been contemplating this conversation. He knows it needs to happen: he has to get everything out of his system, has to know the truth of the matter to make sure he's not going crazy, has to _understand_. More than anything else he has to get out.

Even thinking about it makes his heart ache. It's why he's been sitting on the idea for weeks, putting off today, trying to find opportunities and excuses in equal number. Despite everything, despite knowing that Kyouya has more than likely cheated on him, despite being almost sure that it was with his own twin brother, despite the long nights he's spent not sleeping because he can't stop crying, he can't just _stop_ loving Kyouya. He would love to be able to turn it off like a switch, just forget the last two years – it would make this easier – but he can't.

He lets out another breath on a soft, tearless sob and forces himself out of the car. Before he can stop himself, get back in and drive away, he strides up to the front door and rings the bell. He doesn't get long to wait on the doorstep before the door opens and he's finally faced with Kyouya.

His heart gives a little skip at the sight: Kyouya in a loose knitted sweater, hair tousled from a recent shower, gazing down at Kaoru with a little smile on his face, is still a sight that makes him weak at the knees. In that instant, he feels like he remembers all the best things about them: spontaneous late night dinner dates, sweet kisses shared after intense sessions, the feeling of curling up in bed together, legs tangled... His resolve threatens to crumble under the weight of it all, but then Kyouya opens his mouth.

“Kaoru,” he says, raising an eyebrow. “This is a pleasant surprise.”

Kaoru chokes on his words and has to clear his throat. “Hi. Can... can I come in?”

Kyouya steps back and allows Kaoru to enter. Just the smell of the place – the clean odour of his lime and mint shower gel and a pine scented candle – is making it difficult for him to think. He inhales once, holds his breath to try and steady himself, but before he can let it go Kyouya leans down and kisses him on the lips. Kaoru pulls back, lips coming away from Kyouya's while the front door closes with a gentle _click_.

“Can we just ta–”

Kyouya grabs the back of his neck to kiss him again and Kaoru's weak defences fall instantly as this second kiss sweeps him away. His eyes slip shut and his hands grasp at the front of Kyouya's jumper. Hands push at Kaoru's shoulders and he steps backwards, his back hitting the wall, and Kyouya's tongue drives all other thoughts from Kaoru's mind.

Kaoru's jacket is pushed off his shoulders and tossed on the floor, and Kyouya's fingers tangle into his hair, drawing him closer so that scarcely a breath can pass between them. He whimpers softly and feels Kyouya smirking into the kiss as hands travel up his sides to pull off his t-shirt. In the moment of their lips being apart, Kaoru looks up at Kyouya with heavy-lidded eyes and knows that this shouldn't be happening... But then Kyouya's mouth seeks out that place behind Kaoru's ear and Kaoru bites his lip on a moan. _I can't, I can't... Please._

Kaoru's hands grasp at Kyouya's hair, the damp strands slightly cold against his fingers as Kyouya's teeth nibble along Kaoru's collarbone. A quiet, broken whine leaves Kaoru's lips as he feels nails scraping down his body towards his waistband. There's a soft _clink_ as his belt is undone and then the buttons of his jeans are pulled impatiently open. Kaoru groans, the sound guttural in the back of his throat, when Kyouya's hand closes around his cock over his underwear and squeezes. Kyouya's tongue licks at the shell of Kaoru's ear, drawing whimpers from him, and Kaoru tugs unconsciously at Kyouya's clothes, too lost in sensation to do anything more proactive. His head clunks against the wall as the throws it back, Kyouya's hand having found its way into Kaoru's boxers.

Kaoru nearly reaches for Kyouya's wrist, nearly wrenches Kyouya's hand away, but then he meets Kyouya's gaze and something stops him, something dangerous and glinting, slithery like a snake about to strike. It paralyses Kaoru, like a deer in headlights, and his body starts taking over, leading for him. His hands tremble on Kyouya's chest as the hand on his cock continues.

“You seem desperate already,” murmurs Kyouya in his ear, and something in Kaoru aches. His legs feel shaky and he leans harder on the wall, gasping as Kyouya continues stroking up and down his erection and his jeans and underwear pool at his feet.

“Please,” Kaoru moans, not knowing what he's begging for, just knowing he _needs_.

Kyouya's lips seek out his again and Kaoru nearly sobs when Kyouya's hand leaves his cock. He's dragged off down the corridor, stepping hurriedly from the fabric at his ankles, sure that without Kyouya holding him up he'd stagger and fall, until they reach the living room and Kyouya pulls Kaoru into his lap on the sofa. Kaoru pulls off Kyouya's sweater and shirt with trembling hands. He can feel Kyouya's erection through his trousers and grinds irresistibly down, getting a smirk against his mouth in response.

“So needy,” murmurs Kyouya, and Kaoru hates how much he loves that tone in Kyouya's voice. He twitches his hips again and mashes his lips together to hold in another moan.

Kyouya reaches into the drawer of the end table and brings forth a small bottle of lube, coating the fingers of one hand with the gel. The first long finger slipping inside Kaoru makes him squirm and let out a shaky breath, but he puts up little resistance. Soon Kyouya is working him open on two fingers, three, rubbing at his prostate and making him clutch desperately at the man beneath him. He takes his time, making Kaoru keen softly until he starts pushing backwards, trying to get more friction.

“Please,” Kaoru begs again.

“Please what?” Kyouya meets his eyes and gives him a half-smile. The sight of it makes Kaoru's stomach hurt.

“Please fuck me.” Kaoru's face is burning and he can feel tears pricking the corners of his eyes. A little voice in the back of his head is tugging at him, niggling with protests and questions, and he clenches his fists, his bottom lip trembling. _I didn't even want this when I came here and now I'm begging him to fuck me._

“Certainly.”

Kyouya's fingers leave Kaoru, who tries not to whine in protest as Kyouya coats his erection in lube and shuffles forward in his seat ever so slightly. The press of Kyouya's cock into him makes Kaoru shudder and bury his face in Kyouya's shoulder. He's content to stay there, but Kyouya's hands on his shoulders push him back to sit up again, sinking down fully onto Kyouya's dick.

“Hmm no, I don't think so,” smirks Kyouya, hands settling on Kaoru's hips and a dark glint in his eyes. “I'd like to watch your face as you writhe around on my cock.”

Kaoru's heart hammers hard in his chest and he stares at Kyouya with wide eyes. Something inside him is screaming in fear and anger at his own weak will, and he has to fight it to move his body, to start lifting himself up and down in Kyouya's lap. The feeling of Kyouya moving in and out of him makes him groan and his eyes close as he continues. Kyouya's fingers dig into his hips, hard enough to bruise, and force Kaoru to move faster, flex his hips and arch his back. The tears that have been collecting behind Kaoru's eyelids start to spill out, rolling slowly down his cheeks. He keeps his face turned down, masking his sobs as more moans, trying to eke out some pleasure for himself by changing the angle of his hips just a little.

Kyouya groans, the sound almost tender, almost tremulous, and Kaoru knows it won't take much longer. He clenches the muscles in his backside, squeezing around Kyouya's cock, getting another groan in response. He bounces faster, feels Kyouya's hand finally – _finally_ – wrap around his aching erection once again, and it doesn't take long before he cries out in orgasm and paints Kyouya's chest white. His movements become jerky and erratic and Kyouya grabs his hips again, thrusting up into him hard and fast until he comes too with a growl.

Their movements gradually slow, eventually stilling, both breathing heavily. Kaoru's eyes stay resolutely away as he gets up on wobbly legs and collapses onto the floor. Wordlessly, Kyouya hands Kaoru a small bundle of tissues, and Kaoru cleans himself up, running the back of one hand over his face when he thinks Kyouya isn't looking. By the time he looks up again, Kyouya has tidied himself up, pulled his shirt and sweater back on and tucked himself away, and Kaoru's stomach twists uncomfortably. His clothes are still littered in the hallway, and he feels too aware of his own nakedness in the face of his clothed companion. He stays still, unwilling to move and expose himself to Kyouya, as ridiculous as that sounds now. Instead, he feels his face flush, the pink colour spreading down his neck and chest. When Kyouya makes no move to break the silence, Kaoru eventually caves.

“Can I...” The words catch in his throat. “Please... can I have my clothes?”

Kyouya raises an eyebrow. “I'm not stopping you.”

Kaoru stares up at him and feels the bottom drop out of his stomach. There's a coldness in Kyouya's gaze that he's never seen directed at him before. He gets to his feet, knees knocking and hands moving to cover himself – not that it means much. He tip-toes out to the hallway, picking up his discarded clothes and pulling them hurriedly back on. A large part of him wants to run now, leave the house and go home right away, but he can't. He needs to talk to Kyouya.

He goes back through into the living room, finding Kyouya still on the sofa.

“Can we talk?” he asks, still standing. He folds his arms, desperately wanting to project an air of assertiveness. “Now, please?”

Kyouya smirks. “Of course,” he says. “There are some things we should probably discuss.”

Kaoru frowns – he wasn't aware of anything Kyouya might want to say. “Like what?”

“My father has made some arrangements,” says Kyouya, folding his hands in his lap. “As of yesterday afternoon I am engaged to be married.”

“ _Married_?” Kaoru repeats, feeling slow and stupid.

“Indeed,” says Kyouya. “I imagine it'll be in the next couple of months – you'll get your invitations, of course–”

“When were you planning on telling me this?”

“Now?” says Kyouya.

“I came over unannounced.”

Kyouya shrugs. “Eventually then. It didn't seem important.”

“' _Didn't seem important_ '?!” Kaoru's voice is practically a squeak. “You're engaged! I know _you_ might not care about the sanctity of marriage, given what I know you've been doing with my brother, but _I'm_ not like that!”

Kyouya smirks. “So you figured that out then?”

“A little...” Kaoru's voice is a wobble. The nonchalance Kyouya is showing is awakening something acidic and nauseating inside Kaoru. Until now, until he got here and experienced Kyouya like he just did, he had been placing equal blame on both Hikaru and Kyouya. Now he thinks things might be more complicated...

“Before you ask,” says Kyouya, as though reading Kaoru's thoughts, “Hikaru was the initiator.”

Kaoru shakes his head. “I wasn't going to ask.” His world is crashing down around him and he wants nothing more than to run away. “Look, I came here because I wanted to break up.”

“Well that worked out quite well for the both of us then, didn't it?”

Kaoru lets out a noise of disbelief, something between a gasp and a sob. “So the last two years mean that little to you?”

Kyouya smirks. “Oh no, don't get me wrong, Kaoru, the past two years have been _fun_ ,” he says, “and I do regret that we'll have to end things this way–”

“But not before you got one last _fuck_ in?” scoffs Kaoru. His heart beats fast in his ears and his thoughts race. “I was never a long-term plan, was I?”

Kyouya laughs. “Of course not,” he says as though stating something very obvious to someone very stupid – something Kaoru wouldn't dispute at this point. “There are expectations on me to marry well, to marry a _woman_.”

Kaoru chokes down a sob. “So I was just... a distraction?”

Kyouya sighs exasperatedly, finally standing. “You can word it that way if you wish.”

“I don't think it matters what I _wish_ ,” spits Kaoru. “Not anymore anyway.”

“Oh Kaoru, don't be so dramatic.” Irritation buzzes in his voice like an angry bee and Kaoru scowls at him.

“Don't tell me what to do,” says Kaoru. “You don't... you don't get to...” Despite his anger, or maybe because of it, he's choking around sobs, trying to push them back down his throat to keep them under control. “I am... I'm... not _yours_.”

He steps back, away from Kyouya, arms folding around himself as if to hold himself together. Kyouya looks down at him and raises an eyebrow again.

“I really had hoped this might be a more amicable end–”

“You forfeited that expectation,” snaps Kaoru, “when you cheated on me. You gave it up when you hurt my brother and when you neglected to tell me that there was even a possibility that you might he getting engaged.” He takes a deep breath, needing to keep up the momentum he's established even though he's nearly crying. “You don't _get_ the amicable thing. You never wanted me, not really. I should have listened to Hikaru when he warned me about you.”

A glint flashes in Kyouya's eyes. “Did your brother ever tell you exactly why he hates me?”

Kaoru frowns, staring at Kyouya in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“I'll take that as a no.”

“You know what? _Fuck this_.”

Kaoru turns and leaves the room, stalking off down the hallway to the front door. He knows Kyouya is following behind him – probably to make sure he doesn't smash anything on his way out. Wrenching open the front door, he turns to give one last look to Kyouya: calm and cool, looking as bored as ever. He wants to leave on a high with some kind of devastating line, even if it's a petty one, just to get the last word, but words jumble in his head and he's forced to settle on a glower as he walks through the door and slams it behind him.

In the car again, Kaoru punches the steering wheel, a shout of rage bursting from him that's full of sorrow and betrayal and just _everything_ that's thrumming around inside his body. He buries his face in his hands as the shout reduces down to tears, the adrenaline rush collapsing in on itself now that he's alone. He sobs into his hands, breath hitching and choking in his throat and open mouth wet with drool. His phone makes a chiming sound and he looks over to where he left it on the passenger seat. Picking it up, he sees several messages from Hikaru, along with a missed call. He scrolls quickly through the messages, not taking in any of the words, before giving up and calling Hikaru.

 

***

 

Half an hour later, Hikaru hears a knock at the door and goes to answer it, finding Kaoru on the doorstep. The happiness that's been bubbling inside him, the excitement of telling Kaoru the news about Haruhi's pregnancy, everything fizzles out in the face of Kaoru's state. His hair is standing up at all angles, his eyes are rimmed with red and he's shaking.

“Kaoru, are you okay?”

Kaoru nods, obviously lying.

“Come in,” says Hikaru, putting a hand on Kaoru's shoulder and gently bringing him inside. Once the door shuts, he throws his arms around his brother. “Kaoru...?”

Kaoru shakes more, his arms creeping around Hikaru's waist to hold on to him. A choked sob leaves him and Hikaru hugs him tighter, trying to pour all the love he can into the gesture. He rubs comfortingly up and down Kaoru's back with his hands, letting Kaoru cry it out on his shoulder.

“Hey, it's okay,” Hikaru says, voice low and calm. “It's okay, I'm here.”

He doesn't want to ask. He wonders if it has something to do with Kyouya – he suspects it probably _does_ have something to do with Kyouya – and while he might have once been glad for Kyouya to have ended things with Kaoru, the reality (if this is the case) is far from satisfying. He always wanted Kaoru to be angry, to be venomous about the whole thing, so they could unite in their hatred of Kyouya, but now Kaoru is... well, _broken_. He can feel Kaoru's heart hammering in his chest, a frightened bird in a cage, and the shuddering cries against his neck sound heartbroken. This is _not_ what he wanted.

“Kaoru?” Haruhi says from the stairs, and Hikaru looks up to meet her eyes. He waves a hand to indicate not to worry, but Kaoru straightens up.

“Hi Haruhi...” His voice is croaky. He runs his hands over his face, tears streaking. “Sorry, rough night.”

“Yeah, it looks it...” Haruhi starts walking down the stairs. “Anything you want to talk about?”

Kaoru lets out a short chuckle. “Er... no, not really. Just...” He sighs. “Kyouya and I aren't... we're not together anymore.”

Haruhi's mouth drops open and her eyes dart to Hikaru's face before returning to Kaoru's. “Kaoru, I'm so sorry to hear that...”

“Don't worry about it,” says Kaoru, though Hikaru can see his lip tremble. He coughs. “You guys – Hikaru sounded really excited on the phone. What's going on?”

Haruhi exchanges a look with Hikaru. He nods gently as she comes to the foot of the stairs. Reaching out a hand to her, he brings her into the embrace between the two, making them a three.

“We have some news,” says Hikaru, unable to keep the excited lurch out of his voice.

Kaoru looks between them while Hikaru's eyes go to Haruhi. She clears her throat.

“We're going to have a baby,” she says, eyes meeting Kaoru's.

Kaoru gapes at them, eyes still darting back and forth. “A baby?” He lets out a short bark of a laugh, tearing up again. “You're pregnant?”

Haruhi nods, her face splitting into a grin. “About six or seven weeks.”

Kaoru seems to pause for a moment before laughing disbelievingly again and pulling them both close. “Congratulations guys,” he says, dissolving into tears.

Later, when Kaoru and Haruhi are sitting on the sofa, laughing at something on TV, and Hikaru goes to get a glass of water, he pulls out his phone. He types out a quick message:

I never want to

see you again.

He sends it to Kyouya before rejoining his wife and brother in the living room.

 


	14. Chapter 13

The news of Kyouya's engagement appears in the newspaper soon after: 'Yoshio Ootori, head of the Ootori Medical Group, is pleased to announce that his son, Kyouya Ootori, is engaged to marry Deloris Carissa Dickinson, daughter of Robert Dickinson, co-owner of the British department store chain Dickinson and Matthews. The marriage will secure a merger between the Ootori and Dickinson companies, for which both sides have expressed great hope and joy.'

Kaoru thinks he copes relatively well. He cries, sure. He gets angry and breaks a vase, yes. He stays out late drinking one evening and has to be seen home by his driver, of course. But he doesn't call Kyouya, never begs for a reconciliation, and Kyouya doesn't contact him. He has no idea what he would do if that did happen (probably cry more, hopefully keep his head cool enough not to try and rekindle anything) and he's grateful that it never becomes a genuine concern. He needs the space to move on, to get things under control in his own head and charter his forward course. He takes a few days off work, calls in the favours he's accrued from Hikaru without a hint of remorse, and goes on a short trip to Kusatsu to soak in the onsen and unwind.

Listening to the rhythmic _thunk_ ing of wooden planks and singing at the Yumomi performance gets Kaoru into a contemplative frame of mind where he finds he can think about things without flinching away from the thoughts. Freed from the looming threat of normal life, Kaoru feels liberated, more able to move around in his own head.

He hasn't spoken to Hikaru about Kyouya and Hikaru hasn't brought it up either. As a result, Kaoru has no idea how much Hikaru is aware of, but he hopes above all else that Kyouya is leaving him alone and Hikaru is keeping his distance. The side of Kyouya that Kaoru saw when last they met more than unsettled him – he's never seen Kyouya as cold or as cruel as then. As upset as he is at the knowledge that Hikaru was sleeping with Kyouya, he wants desperately for Hikaru to be safe, especially with the news Hikaru and Haruhi gave him when he went to see them.

Kaoru isn't stupid: he's figured out the dates. It's late November: six or seven weeks rolls conception back to Hikaru and Haruhi's wedding anniversary, and it's only now that it occurs to Kaoru that he never even thought about using a condom at the time. The realisation makes him feel sick to his stomach. There's nothing he can think to excuse it, not even getting Hikaru back for what he did (even if the idea did flash a brief, angry red in Kaoru's mind at the time) because that's not fair and two wrongs haven't made a right since Kaoru was thirteen. He feels stuck in a corner, unsure where to go from here.

On the one hand, he knows he could talk to both of them about it. He'd say this one hand is the better hand but something stops him: Haruhi seems not to remember sleeping with him. He hasn't said anything outright, but the way she's acted around him hasn't changed and when he's made vague (perhaps too vague to err on the side of caution) allusions to things, she never seems to respond in any way that might suggest guilt or anything similar. She seems excited, if a little nervous, at the prospect of impending motherhood, but nothing in her manner suggests anything else.

So on the other hand, Kaoru could bring it up and tell her and Hikaru about what happened. He might absolve himself of things a little bit, but then he'd feel terrible for dropping a bomb like this on them, especially now that they seem to have reached a better place together. Hikaru seems happier – in meetings during their business trip to China he was more alert, more personable, more helpful, and outside of meetings he was sending messages to Haruhi, checking on her and wanting to know how she was. Kaoru was pleased to see the change in his brother, and from the snatches of phone calls he overheard Haruhi was happier too. From what he can tell this is still how things are, and so he's been sitting on his guilt, trying to squash it down and away. He's not sure if knowing about the pregnancy – and he knows how privileged he is to know so early and how delighted they both are about it – makes him more keen to say something or less.

He sighs, breath misting in front of his face in the cold air. He walks around the yubatake, golden eyes peering in at the shops and cafés he passes. With no idea of what else to do, he ducks into a restaurant to get some dinner. He's returning to Tokyo tomorrow and wants to enjoy this evening as much as he can.

 

***

 

Hikaru consoles himself with the knowledge that no one else was in the car with them when it happened. It's poor comfort, but he's trying and if he doesn't at least try everything will come crashing down around him.

He takes a sip of water and nods to the police officer's questions.

“Yes, I was approaching the side road and everything looked clear from what I could see. I had right of way so I continued driving,” he explains.

The officer writes down the information. “And you were going at what speed?”

“About thirty miles per hour,” says Hikaru. He knows he was within the speed limit – he's not worried about that. “Are we nearly done? I need to go see my wife.”

The officer nods. “I'll need to get the report together and have you sign it. After that you'll be free to go.”

Hikaru sighs, slumping in the uncomfortable hospital chair. The officer seems to do his best to expedite the process, but every second that goes by Hikaru feels his nerves fraying. Fortunately for his sanity (and that of the officer), the door to the office opens and a doctor walks in, followed by Haruhi. Hikaru gets to his feet, going to her.

“Is everything okay?” he asks, hands cupping her face. She's pale and tired-looking but smiling, her own hands curled habitually over her small, four-month bump.

“I'm okay,” she says. “Baby seems fine too.”

Hikaru sighs in relief, lowering his head to kiss her before turning to the doctor. “Thank you for your help,” he says. “We really appreciate it.”

The doctor nods. “Just doing my job. I know you said you're fine but I do need to check a few things if that's okay.”

Hikaru allows himself to be examined while the police officer finishes his report. Eventually, everything is sorted and the two of them are allowed to leave. Hikaru calls a driver, their own car being in the shop, and they head home.

 

***

 

Hikaru is woken at quarter past three in the morning by Haruhi's screams.

“What's wrong?”

He doesn't remember sitting up but he is and as her screaming turns to sobs he looks down to see her sitting in a pool of red. His heart jumps into his throat and stops. Pushing down a wave of nausea, he reaches out and grabs her hand.

“Hey hey hey, ssh, sweetie, calm down, please calm down,” Hikaru says, trying to sound soothing even though all his instincts are screeching loud in his ears. He pulls her into his arms, letting her face bury into his shoulder. Her cries muffle into his skin and he can feel her tears roll down his chest. One of his hands rubs gently up and down her back while his other arm stays firmly around her. “Ssh, I've got you, I've got you...” He hesitates but then adds, “I need to call a driver so we can go to the hospital.”

“I... I don't... want to,” she whimpers.

“We have to,” he murmurs, gulping around the lump in his throat.

When they get there the doctors try to wheel Haruhi away, but Hikaru insists on staying with her, and her vise-like grip on his hand wouldn't be able to let him go anyway. Scans are done, tests are run, but they both know the outcome isn't going to be good.

“The baby's heart has stopped,” says the doctor finally. Haruhi, sitting in the hospital bed, seems to shrink in the circle of Hikaru's arms. “We'll have to deliver.”

The next six and a half hours are the worst of Hikaru's life. He holds Haruhi's hands for the entire time, only letting go if he really has to, talking to her as softly and calmly as he can. When she's given the drugs to induce labour, Hikaru coaxes her into swallowing them, collecting her tears on his fingertips and wiping them away. He holds her close during the contractions, desperately wishing there was more he could do.

Weird, disjointed thoughts float about in his head. He has a load of Internet bookmarks on his computer at home for cribs, prams, changing tables – all of them will have to be deleted. Haruhi's maternity clothes – she didn't need them yet but Yuzuha was designing them for her – won't be needed. He needs to call the housekeeper and make sure she changes the bedclothes. They'll have to tell people – they only just gave everyone the good news, and now they have to give the bad.

Once it's all over, Hikaru lies down on the narrow bed with Haruhi and lets her cry the last of it out, stroking her hair from where it stuck to her sweaty forehead. He kisses her cheeks, her nose, her lips, assures her that she is beautiful and brave and strong and he loves her, loves her so much, and things will be okay. Even so, listening to her weeping breaks his heart and his own tears soak the shoulder of her hospital gown.

 

***

 

The doctors insist on keeping Haruhi in the hospital for a while. Hikaru insists on staying with her as long as possible – he knows he could try to pull strings but Kyouya's family owns this hospital and he's _not_ asking for favours from _him_. Almost all his free time is spent in the hospital with Haruhi, and when he's home he uses his time to catch up on the work he isn't doing in the office with Kaoru. His brother is completely understanding – of course he's completely understanding – and takes the absence in his stride, tries to get Hikaru to stop trying to keep up with his downtime and sleep more, but Hikaru is determined to stay busy.

Haruhi gets other visitors while she's there: Ryoji comes to see her every other day, his face careworn and tender, and Kaoru comes as often as he can when he's also trying to catch up on work. She gets emails from Tamaki in France, and Hani and Mori come by with an unnecessarily huge basket of fruit, but too many people wears her out fast. More often than not, Hikaru sits in the chair while Haruhi sleeps, sometimes dozing himself and needing to be woken by a nurse at the end of visiting hours.

One afternoon, Haruhi is sleeping soundly in the bed, curled up on her side, while Hikaru nods over today's paper when he hears a soft knock at the door. Kaoru pops his head in.

“Hey,” he says, voice low so as not to wake up Haruhi.

“Hi,” says Hikaru, sitting up and folding the paper. He stands and stretches. “Did you get the proposals from the venues?”

Kaoru nods. “Everything's fine,” he assures Hikaru, glancing to the bed. Haruhi's middle section rises and falls steadily under the duvet. “Can we talk? Like... about something other than work?”

Hikaru blinks in confusion. “Er, sure...? What's wrong?”

“Uh, nothing, just...” Kaoru sighs. “I... look, I just want to make sure there's nothing still going on between you and Kyouya.”

Hikaru's mouth drops open, but no sound emerges. He stares at Kaoru silently and gets a worried but determined expression in response.

“Yeah, I... figured it out,” says Kaoru. “It's not important now. The only thing that matters is _her_ ” – he gestures to Haruhi – “and that you're doing right by her.”

Hikaru continues to stare at him, wide-eyed, but then clears his throat. “I... I'm sorry,” he finally says. “I'm so sorry. I never intended for it to happen, but–”

“I understand,” cuts in Kaoru. “I... He... he's scary.”

Hikaru feels a weight begin to lift in his chest. “I never thought I'd hear you say that about him.”

Kaoru shrugs. “The last time I saw him I think I saw what you'd been seeing in him all along.”

Words bubble up inside Hikaru, years old and almost forgotten, breaking free out of the cage they've been struggling around inside of. He goes to say something but the sound turns to a yawn. “Ah, sorry...” he mumbles.

“You haven't slept much have you?” asks Kaoru. When Hikaru shakes his head, Kaoru throws another glance at Haruhi, still sleeping, before saying, “Let's go get some dinner.”

“But...” Hikaru looks at Haruhi, golden eyes forlorn, and feels Kaoru's hand on his shoulder.

“She's okay,” says Kaoru. “We'll go get food and come back; she won't be alone long.”

Hikaru hesitates a little longer, but then slowly nods. As Kaoru opens the door, Hikaru takes a deep breath.

“There's...” His voice makes Kaoru hesitate in the doorway, looking at him. Hikaru stumbles on the words not quite running free inside him. “I... Can I talk to you about something?”

Kaoru gives him a small, encouraging smile. “Of course.”

They leave the room together, the door closing behind them with a soft _click_. In the bed, Haruhi's eyes open.

 


	15. Chapter 14

It was Tamaki and Kyouya's high school graduation party. Tamaki had invited the entire Host Club to his house – even Mori and Hani had come back from university to come party with the rest of them – and they spent the day together, catching up and playing video games. As the afternoon drifted into evening and adult supervision seemed to be a forgotten concept, alcohol appeared apparently from nowhere. The bottles emptied and the seven of them grew steadily tipsy and then swiftly drunk, and everything in the room seemed to go faster and make less sense.

Hikaru could feel the edges of himself becoming fuzzy – he seemed to almost float just above his own head, his consciousness flitting around him like a butterfly. Leaning against Kaoru, who seemed to have grown more prone to giggles, he considered those around him. For Mori, the alcohol combined with the lateness of the evening seemed to exacerbate the way he would grow talkative when tired, and he was loudly telling Tamaki about a pretty girl he had met at university. Tamaki was nodding along enthusiastically, a wide, silly grin on his face and one arm wrapped around Haruhi's waist. She was curled into his side, nursing a glass that was threatening to spill with every downward nod of her head; her eyelids were drooping and she looked about ready to fall asleep any moment. Hani was on Mori's other side, giggling with Kaoru, and Kyouya was sitting between Hikaru and Haruhi, quieter than usual and sipping his own drink. Hikaru wasn't sure how he himself looked to the room at large but he knew he felt _weird_. He tried to push down the feeling and engage in whatever everyone else was doing, tried to laugh along with Kaoru and Hani, but he felt sluggish, and the moment he opened his mouth he felt a wave of nausea crest in the back of his throat.

“I'll be right back,” he managed to slur to Kaoru as he slowly got to his feet and shuffled out of the room to go find a toilet.

It didn't occur to him, in his wobbly state, to look over his shoulder.

The trip to the bathroom was unpleasant to say the least. The contents of Hikaru's stomach left him before he even had time to pull his bangs away from his face. He held the locks of hair gingerly, trying to avoid smearing vomit onto himself. Tears squeezed out from between his eyelids, more reflexive from the gagging than from being upset, and by the time he was done throwing up his cheeks felt hot and wet. He cleaned up as best he could with shaky hands, wiping gunk off his skin and splashing water on his face. He looked into the mirror, seeing his golden eyes wide and bloodshot, and wondered if he had been looking this rough all night.

Patting his pocket and realising he had left his phone in the main room with the others, Hikaru sighed and unlocked the bathroom door, heading out into the dark hallway. He didn't get far before he was slammed into the door of a nearby room and felt a bruising kiss to his lips. He tried to pull back, found himself pressed further against the door, and spluttered into the mouth on his. With the opening of his lips, he felt a tongue invade, pressing in against his own and moving rapidly. Unable to do anything else, he lifted his hands and pressed them into the torso of the other person until they pulled back and Hikaru could look up into the face of...

“Kyouya?”

His mind was moving slow, stumbling in zig-zag patterns. What was Kyouya doing kissing him like this? How drunk was he?

“ _Hikaru_...”

Hikaru had never heard that tone in Kyouya's voice before, and he realised he had never wanted to. There was a dangerous undercurrent to it, like a strong rip tide that could pull Hikaru under if he strayed too close. He didn't want to – he wanted to go back to the main room and find Kaoru and tell him he was calling the driver to take him home – but caught between the door and Kyouya's body there wasn't anything he could do to get away. As Kyouya dove in for another kiss, Hikaru's hand scrabbled around desperately, feeling the cold metal of the doorknob against his fingers, and he reached for it, twisting it to open the door and hopefully throw Kyouya off. Unfortunately, Kyouya's arms around his waist kept them flush together, even as they stumbled into the dark room, even as Hikaru staggered back and fell onto a chaise lounge. Kyouya's weight winded Hikaru, before Kyouya lifted himself a little and settled low over him.

“You've no idea how long I've thought about this,” murmured Kyouya, his voice low and his breath hot against Hikaru's neck. “You don't even _know_...”

Hikaru shuddered, recoiling under Kyouya. What the hell was going on? Did Kyouya mean what Hikaru thought he meant? He... what, he wanted to _date_ Hikaru? He wanted to kiss him? Judging by Kyouya's hands tugging at Hikaru's t-shirt his desires extended to more than kissing. His fingers crawled up under Hikaru's t-shirt, pulling it up to expose his chest and leave little scratches on his skin. Blind panic flooded Hikaru's system and he squeaked, the sound pathetic even to his own ears. His hands flew to Kyouya's wrists – or they tried to. His limbs felt heavy and uncooperative, unable to move fast enough or with any kind of force, and his hands closed weakly on Kyouya's forearms.

“N- no...” he mumbled, pushing at Kyouya to try and get him to back off.

“No?” Kyouya lifted his head to fix Hikaru under his steely gaze. “Are you sure about that? You seem to like this...”

One of Kyouya's hands ran down Hikaru's body to rest over his crotch and Hikaru let out a strangled whimper as he felt that what Kyouya said was true. Despite how awful he felt, Hikaru could also feel that he was half-hard and Kyouya's hand was only worsening the situation. He tried to turn his face away before Kyouya could kiss him again, but his reflexes were about ten steps behind him and Kyouya's tongue rammed back into his mouth before Hikaru could process it. He coughed, or tried to, and Kyouya's fingers moved over the growing erection in Hikaru's jeans. The sensation of it drew a strangled sound from Hikaru, and he blinked rapidly, blinked away tears, whining quietly.

Kyouya pulled out of the kiss again. “You sound like you're enjoying yourself.”

Under Kyouya's gaze, Hikaru could feel his lips trembling, but he desperately held in his tears. He didn't want to cry in front of Kyouya, not now – but the hand on his crotch was becoming more and more insistent, moving with more grace than Hikaru was expecting (and he wondered, in a distant part of his mind, if Kyouya was really that drunk at all). As Kyouya opened Hikaru's jeans and traced the outline of his cock through his underwear, Hikaru's breath caught in his throat, and he bit his lip. Why was his body responding like this? He wanted to throw Kyouya off, he wanted to get up and leave, or just... _wake up_.

But he wasn't sleeping and this was all painfully real. Kyouya sunk his teeth into the side of Hikaru's throat, drawing a low sound from Hikaru, and his hand dipped into Hikaru's boxers. Hikaru tried to swallow down a sob but it was too heavy, too fat in his throat, and forced its way out, along with tears that rolled down his temples to his hairline. Knowing there was nothing else he could do, Hikaru gave up. As Kyouya started pumping his erection, Hikaru's face flushed with shame. He trembled all over, letting sobs rack his body, all control lost to his own body and Kyouya, who dragged him towards the inevitable, all while stealing more kisses and leaving more little bites on Hikaru's skin. When Hikaru eventually came, spurting white all over Kyouya's hand, he felt hollow, like Kyouya had scooped him out of himself and discarded him on the floor.

As Kyouya sat up and climbed off him, Hikaru hurriedly did his jeans back up, as though to try and hide his own shame. Having something more concrete to do seemed to help bring him back into his own body more, and when Kyouya rounded on him again, Hikaru got up and pushed him away. Before Kyouya could say or do anything more, Hikaru darted around him and ran from the room, back down the hallway to the main room where the others were still sitting.

“Hey Hikaru,” greeted Kaoru as Hikaru came back in. “Are you okay? You were gone a while.”

“I...” Hikaru wanted to say something, but the words wouldn't come out. Part of him was yelling at him to spit it out, but at the same time – had he wanted it? Kyouya had managed to get him off, after all – so had he wanted him to...? At that moment, Kyouya returned to the room and Hikaru gulped. There was no point. No one would believe him. “I'm okay. I just... wasn't feeling very well.”

He sat down, pushing himself between Kaoru and Hani so that he wouldn't have to sit beside Kyouya again. He knew only one thing: no one would ever know about this.

 


	16. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the final chapter of this story and then tomorrow I'll be posting a bonus chapter containing an alternate ending that I thought was kind of amusing. I can't remember what I intended the end of this chapter to be like but I didn't have the heart to make it too awful in the end so I hope you guys enjoy the gang eking out some happiness for themselves after the mess that was the story.  
> ~ Pan

When Hikaru gets to the end of the story, his voice is quiet and grey, and he stares at a spot on the floor. Kaoru gazes at him silently, his own gold eyes wide with surprise. Around them in the convenience restaurant they came to for take-out, other people continue with their evenings with not a care in the world. Little snippets of conversation float past Kaoru, but he doesn't process them, instead mentally calculating how many years Hikaru has been holding onto this secret for. Hikaru mumbles something.

“Hmm?” asks Kaoru.

“Please say something,” whispers Hikaru.

Kaoru nods, then coughs. “Sorry, just...” He grasps for the words. “I just... I had no idea.”

“That's not your fault.”

“No but I wish I'd known,” says Kaoru.

“I didn't want anyone to know,” says Hikaru. “I didn't want it to be true. I thought... I thought if... if I didn't say anything to anyone I could... pretend it wasn't real. I didn't think anyone would believe me and I... I didn't want you to judge me.”

“Why would I judge you?” Kaoru asks, bewilderment clear in his tone.

Hikaru looks at Kaoru with a face like a bottomless well. “Because I couldn't... fight him off. Because I let it happen. Because he... he...”

Kaoru sees tears threaten and pulls Hikaru into a hug. “It's okay,” he whispers, lips close to Hikaru's ear. “It's okay – you're safe now. I won't let anything happen to you.”

Hikaru's arms wrap around him and Hikaru cries into Kaoru's shoulder, the thick scarf around Kaoru's neck and shoulders taking the worst of the tears. When the waitress comes over with their food, Kaoru takes the bag in one hand and Hikaru's arm in the other and they start walking back to the hospital.

“So what happened afterwards?” asks Kaoru. “After that night I mean?”

Hikaru sniffs. “I avoided him as much as I could,” he explains. “He sent me messages but I didn't reply. Until he went to university I did everything I could to keep away from him.”

“Is that why you wanted to go to Paris Fashion Week so badly that year?”

Hikaru nods. “And why I said I had a stomachache when Tamaki suggested we all go to the beach for a weekend.” He pauses before adding, “I mean, I kind of did have one but it wasn't because I was sick.”

Kaoru sighs; things are beginning to slot into place in his mind. He thinks back to one of the last things Kyouya said to him and swallows. “And that's why you hated him so much when I started seeing him.” It's not a question – neither of them thinks it is – but Hikaru nods anyway.

“I'm sorry,” he mutters as they enter the hospital again and head to the lifts.

“What for?”

“I wanted to tell you but I... couldn't.”

Kaoru's hand on Hikaru's arm squeezes gently. “I'm sorry for not listening,” he insists. “You tried.”

Their lift arrives and they step in. Hikaru presses the number for Haruhi's floor and the doors trundle closed before the familiar drop in their stomachs as they ascend.

“I thought I was going crazy,” admits Hikaru on a sigh. “I thought he must have changed or I'd made it up – you seemed so happy.”

Kaoru nods. “I thought so too.” He bites his tongue on another thought: Kyouya's interest in him (as passing as it was ever going to be considering the convenient get-out clause of a British heiress fiancée) might all have been because of Hikaru and his rejection all those years ago. The idea stings a little, even to Kaoru's numbed heart. The lift doors open and they step out into the corridor.

“Haruhi's getting discharged tomorrow,” says Hikaru, apparently suddenly remembering with the change of scene.

“That's good,” says Kaoru. “Will you need a few more days out of the office to stay with her?”

“If you don't mind,” replies Hikaru. When Kaoru nods, Hikaru sighs in relief. “Thank you – you're the best.”

They stop short outside Haruhi's room when they hear two voices from inside.

“It's one of the doctors, right?” says Hikaru, but the gnawing feeling in Kaoru's tummy tells him that's not the case.

Sure enough, when they open the door and step inside, they find Haruhi sitting up in bed and Kyouya standing by the window, apparently in conversation that stops short at their arrival.

“Hikaru, Kaoru,” greets Kyouya, his tone warm but his grey eyes cold. “How pleasant to see you both.”

Kaoru's grip on Hikaru's arm locks at the feeling of tightening muscles under his fingers. As much as Kyouya thoroughly deserves any physical violence Hikaru could bring upon him, he isn't worth the assault charge. He feels a tremor go through Hikaru and counts to ten in his head.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Hikaru spits instead.

Kyouya smirks. “Well my family does own this hospital,” he says smoothly. “I'm heartbroken that you didn't tell me about any of this sooner – I would have got you something.”

“We don't need anything from you,” snarls Hikaru through gritted teeth. “Get out.”

Kaoru's gaze darts to Haruhi, staring at them all in silence. Her hands are balling fists in the blanket over her lap and when she meets Kaoru's stare there's something hiding behind her wide brown eyes.

Kyouya raises an eyebrow. “I may as well; it seems everyone knows everything now... That is, almost...”

He looks pointedly at Haruhi, who frowns at him.

“This has nothing to do with you,” she says, voice remarkably steady. “Please go.”

Kyouya chuckles, the sound throaty, and doesn't move. “I can tell them if you prefer.”

Haruhi looks pained and sighs, and Kaoru feels bile rise in his throat. He glares at Kyouya.

“How _dare_ you?” he asks, and he knows his voice sounds pathetic – this is the first time he's seen or spoken to Kyouya since they broke up. Nevertheless, he presses on. “She's just had a miscarriage. She hasn't even left the hospital yet. She's been through more than she should ever have had to and you're standing here being a smug prick–”

“Of course, you know what she's been through, don't you Kaoru?”

Kaoru feels a bucket of ice drop into his belly. He stops short, the rest of his words caught in his throat. “ _What_?” He's practically whispering.

Kyouya smirks. “I think you know what I mean.”

Kaoru's brows twist in confusion. Kyouya can't know... can he? How? Beside him, Hikaru looks between Kyouya and Kaoru, and occasionally at Haruhi.

Kyouya folds his arms. “You see, Hikaru, your bro–”

“Shut up,” Haruhi snaps. “Like I said, this doesn't concern you and I can tell him myself.”

“What is going on?” Hikaru asks plaintively. “Haruhi, no matter what it is, just... Just tell me, I promise you I won't be angry.”

Kaoru frowns, in annoyance at Kyouya and confusion. What could she possibly know? _She doesn't remember her anniversary._

Haruhi looks between Kaoru and Hikaru, eyes full, and then at Kyouya. Her resolve seems to strengthen and she takes a deep breath, exhaling slowly as she looks down at the blankets. “Do you remember our anniversary?”

Kaoru's eyes widen. _No way_.

Hikaru nods beside him and Kaoru wonders if he should let go of his arm.

“I...” Haruhi hesitates and Kyouya clears his throat. All three of them scowl at him before Haruhi continues. “I was really sad and I... drank a lot.” She glances at Kaoru briefly. “Kaoru came over and we were talking and drinking more and...” Her voice trails into a croak and her fists tug at the blankets. On a broken whisper, she finishes, “We slept together.”

Hikaru seems to slump in Kaoru's grip. Kaoru knows his own face is slack with surprise and Haruhi glances over again.

“I didn't remember at first,” she says. “I'd drunk so much and I didn't want to remember feeling so sad and disappointed, but then it started coming back to me and I...” She breaks off, tears staining her face. “I was scared and I didn't know what to do so I didn't say anything and I pretended I didn't remember.” She sniffs. “K-Kaoru I'm sorry for not saying anything to you either but I thought maybe... if I didn't say anything I could... I could pretend like it didn't happen.”

Kaoru feels a shudder go through Hikaru at the words she's unintentionally echoing. He holds himself still in that moment, not wanting to trigger anything. Haruhi is shaking and looking so small in the bed and she needs someone to hold her but Kaoru knows she doesn't feel worthy of it. His gaze goes to Kyouya, looking self-satisfied, smug and a poisonous urge rears within him, a sudden desperation to tear that fucking smirk off his face. Finally, Hikaru straightens.

“I... I have something to say too,” he says. He glares over at Kyouya once more but before he can say anything else Haruhi coughs.

“I... was awake,” she says.

The twins both pause. “What?” they ask in unison.

“Before,” she says, meeting their gazes. “I was awake. I woke up when Kaoru got here. I heard... I heard about Kyouya...” She turns her head to look at him, standing silent and smirking. She seems to consider him for a moment before saying, “You're despicable.”

Kyouya frowns for the first time. “That's it?”

Haruhi rolls her eyes, the effect somewhat ruined by the tear tracks still on her face. “Yes, it is. I heard what they said about you. I know how you control people. I know that you're manipulative, even if I didn't realise it for a while.” She takes a steadying breath and Kaoru holds his own. “I also know that Hikaru loves me and he loves his brother and we love him. Unconditionally. And Kaoru loved you once but not any more. You have no one left who loves you. Even your own father–”

“Shut up,” says Kyouya sharply. “You don't know anything.”

“I know your marriage was arranged for you for business purposes,” continues Haruhi, fire blazing in her eyes. “Everyone knows that. There are rumours that it's partly to fix something, so what have you been doing?”

Kyouya's lips tighten under her scrutiny. He throws a look the twins' way and scoffs.

“Fine,” he says. “I'll go.”

He stalks past Hikaru and Kaoru to the door and leaves, the closing _click_ of the catch a strangely quiet end.

 

***

 

Two weeks later, Hikaru sits in the window seat in the parlour of Tamaki's Paris house, watching the wind whip leaves down the cobbled street. Haruhi is curled up beside him, toes tucked under his thigh and reading a book by the fading daylight. Sitting in armchairs opposite one another in the corner, Tamaki and Kaoru are chatting animatedly over a game of chess that they both seem to be losing.

After Kyouya left, Hikaru and Kaoru had held Haruhi between them, felt her trembling with the exertion, and told her how amazing she was, how resolute and strong. She had cried more, asked Hikaru to forgive her even as he asked the same of her. Everything they had both been holding in spilled from them – including everything Hikaru had only just told Kaoru an hour before – and by the time they had realised that time was still passing Hikaru and Kaoru were being ushered out for the end of visiting hours and the food they'd bought was cold.

Once Haruhi had been discharged, she had an email conversation – which then turned into a three hour Skype conversation – with Tamaki, who insisted on them all coming to France to get away from everything for a while. While their schedules didn't really allow it, the three of them booked the plane tickets the next morning.

Hikaru hears Kaoru give a cry of victory and looks round to see Tamaki's king on its side in front of him. Tamaki laughs, the sound easy and leisured.

“This is what I get for not paying attention to your rooks,” he says jovially, and Kaoru grins.

“Well if you're feeling like a sore loser we can go best two out of three?” he teases and Tamaki smiles. Before either of them can say anything more, a bell sounds out in the hallway to signal dinner being ready and they have to concede to play again tomorrow.

Hikaru and Haruhi go to dinner hand in hand, fingers entwined, and Hikaru's heart feels full of her, full of everything about her. He thinks he'll always hate some, if not all, of himself for everything he did, and he knows Haruhi and Kaoru feel the same, but he can't help but feel like things might not be so bad. When Kaoru and Tamaki slyly grin at each other over dinner and sit next to each other on the sofa when they all watch a film together afterwards, he doesn't feel the same crushing helplessness he did when it was Kyouya. Things seem like they might be easier now, and Hikaru can't help the sense of gratitude he feels inside him.

 


	17. Alternate Ending

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, it's Pandora. This is an alternate (incredibly dumb) ending for the fic that I thought up when I wasn't sure what the ending might be - it's not meant as anything serious and I hoped people might get a kick out of reading it. :)

When Hikaru and Kaoru get back to Haruhi's room, all their stories and comfort exchanged in equal measure, they find Haruhi alone and sitting up in bed.

“Hey beautiful,” Hikaru greets her, kissing her on the cheek.

“Hi,” she says back weakly. She looks between the two of them strangely, silent.

Hikaru perches on the edge of her bed. “How are you feeling?”

She nods. “Tired but I'm okay.” She looks from Hikaru to Kaoru and back before licking her lips. “Umm, there was someth–”

Her words stop short as the door bursts suddenly open and Kyouya appears in front of them, looking harried. Hikaru scowls and Kaoru folds his arms, almost shrinking away.

“What the hell are you doing here?” spits Hikaru.

“You all need to get out,” says Kyouya urgently. “Right now.”

Hikaru scoffs. “Seriously? She's not being discharged until tomo–”

“Not that,” says Kyouya, darting to the window and peeking out through the blinds. “You're not safe here.”

“What the hell do you mean?” asks Kaoru. “What's going on?”

Kyouya turns to look at them all grimly. “Deloris.”

Hikaru, Kaoru and Haruhi all look at each other in confusion.

“What?” asks Haruhi.

“My fiancée,” replies Kyouya. “The British heiress.”

“What about her?” asks Kaoru, unable to keep the slight hint of jealousy from his voice.

“She found out about all of this.” Kyouya gestures to himself and them, arm making a sweeping motion in the air. “And she put a hit out on you all.”

There's a moment of silence in the room before Hikaru and Kaoru snort.

“Try again,” says Hikaru. “That was weak.”

“I'm not joking!” says Kyouya. “All three of you need to get out of this hospital as soon as possible – it's only a matter of time befo–”

The window shatters and Kyouya drops to his knees on the floor as the jug of water by Kaoru's elbow explodes. The gunshot mark in the wall behind takes them all by surprise.

“Shit,” growls Kyouya. “They were faster than I expected.”

“Are you fucking _serious_?!” Hikaru yells, grabbing Haruhi and throwing himself sideways off the bed. He lands painfully on his side, cushioning Haruhi's fall with his body. From under the bed, he can see Kaoru flat on the floor too.

“Yes, unfortunately,” says Kyouya. “I told her not to – it seemed disproportionate – but before I knew it she'd done it and I can't get through to her on the phone.” He looks up at the window, broken glass tinkling around him as he moves, before looking at the three of them sternly. “You need to get out and hide. Deloris won't have skimped on a hitman – he or she will be the best money can buy and until I can call her off they will be relentless.”

Haruhi's eyes are as wide as Hikaru's when they exchange a look. Her breathing is fast against his chest, her heartbeat racing.

“Come on,” says Kaoru from where he is, drenched and surrounded by fragments of jug. “Let's get going.”

They crawl out of the room, hearing another shot ring out as Kyouya stands up, but they don't have time to look back. Racing through the hospital, they pass doctors and orderlies rushing to protect their patients, and eventually get down to the underground car park. Their driver is waiting, the engine running, and they jump in the car. As they leave the place, Hikaru sits sandwiched between Kaoru and Haruhi and almost laughs. He hates Kyouya – he's fairly certain Kaoru does too – and now they're relying on him to call off a hitman. His life feels ridiculous even to himself. Shaking his head, he pulls Haruhi and Kaoru close and settles back in the seat. It's only going to get more ridiculous from here.

 


End file.
